ORIGINS OF CHRISTIANITY, 

VOL. II 

THE APOSTLES. 



NEW WORKS, 
Bsr ERNEST RENAN, 

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I. — ^The Life of Jesus. 
n. — The Apostles. 
in. — Saint Paul. 

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THE 



APOSTLES. 



BY 

ERNEST REN AN, 

MEVBRE DE L'iSSTITin'. 

AUTHOR OF "the LIFE OF JESUS," ETC, ETa 



TRANSLATED FROM lUE ORIGINAL FRENCH. 




NEW YOPvK: 
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FAUI;S: MICHEL LEVY FREllES. 
M DCCC LXXV. 



6^ 



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TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



! PAGH 

INTR OD UCTlOy.— Critical Exnmination of Original Docu- 

meiiU 7 

CHAPTER L-Formatvm of Beliefs relative to the Resur- 

redion of Jesus.^The Apparitions at Jerusalem . . 54 

CRA PTER II. — Departure of the Discipls from Jerusalem. 

— Second Galilean life of Jt-sus 71 

CHAPTER III— Return of the ApodJes to Jerusalem.— End 

of the period of Apparitions " , , , . .83 

CHAPTER TV.— Descent of the Holy Spirit; Ecstatical and 

Piophetic Phenomena ....... 91 

CHAPTER V. — First Church at Jerusalem; its Character 

Cenohitical 104 

CHAPTER VI. — The Conversion of the HeUenisiic Jsws and 

Proselytes 122 

CHAPTER VII. — The Church considered ar. an Association 
of po >r Peoph. — Instit^ition of the Diaconate. — Deacon- 
evses- and Widows 130 

CHAPTER VI II.— First Persecution.— Death of Stephen.— 

Destruction of the first Church of Jerusalem . . 144 

CHAPTER IX.— First Missions.— Philip the Deacon . . 154 



VI CONTENTS. 



PAGB 



CHAPTER X.— Conversion of St Paul . . . .162 

CHAPTER XL — Peace and Interior Developments of the 

Church of Judea 179 

CHAPTER XII.—Estahlishment of the Church of Antioch . 19G 

CHAPTER XIIL—The idea of an Aposfolate to the Gentiles. 

— Saint Bar I abas . . . . . . . 206 

CHAPTER XIK— Persecution of Herod Af/rippa I. . . . 214 

CHAPTER XV. — Movements Para'ld tu^ and Lnitaiive of 

Christianity. — Simon of Gitto 226 

CHAPTER XVI.— General p>rogn ss of the Christian Missions 236 

CHAPTER XVII.— State of the World in the First Cent ry 252 

CHAPTER XVIIL— Religious Lcjis^atum oj the period . 278 

CHAPTER XIX.— The Future of Missions . . . 290 

NOTES 305 



THE APOSTLES. 



INTRODUCTION 

CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF ORIGINAL DOCUMENTS. 

The first book of onr History of the Origins of Chris- 
tianityhYow^^t us down to the death and burial of Jesus ; 
and we must now resume tlie sul)ject at the point wliere 
we left it — that is to say, on Saturday, the fourth of 
April, in the year 33. The work will be for some time 
yet a sort of continuation of the life of Jesus. Next to 
the glad months, during which the great Founder laid the 
bases of a new order of things for humanity, these few 
succeeding years were the most decisive in the history 
of the world. It is still Jesus, who, by the holy fire 
kindled in the hearts of a few friends from the spark 
He himself has placed there, creates institutions of tlie 
highest originality, stirs and transforms souls, and im- 
presses on everything His divine seal. It shall be ours 
to show how, under this influence, always active and 
victorious over death, the doctrines of faith in the re- 
surrection, in the influence of the Holy Spirit, in the 
gift of tongues, and in the power of the Church, be- 
came firndy established. We shall describe the organi- 
zation of the Church of Jerusalem, its first trials, and its 



8 



THE APOSTLES. 



iirst triumphs, and the earliest missions to wliicliit gave 
birth. We shall follow Christianity in its rapid progress 
throngh Syria as far as Antioch, where it established 
a second capital in some respects more important than 
Jerusalem, and destined, even, to supplant the latter. 
In this new centre, where converted heathen were in 
the majority, we shall see Christianity separate itself 
definitively from Judaism, and receive a name of its 
own ; and we shall note, above all, the birth of the 
grand idea of distant missions destined to carry the 
name of Jesus throughout the Gentile world. We 
shall pause at the solemn moment when Paul, Barna- 
bas, and Mark depart to carry this great design into 
execution ; and then, interrupting for a while our nar- 
rative, we shall cast a glance at the world which these 
brave missionaries sought to convert. We shall en- 
deavor to give an account of the intellectual, political, 
moral, religious, and social condition of the Roman 
Empire at about the year 45, the probable date of the 
departure of St. Paul on his first mission. 

Such is the scope of tliis second book which we have 
called The Apostles, because it is devoted to that period 
of common action, during which the little family cre- 
ated by Jesus acted in concert and was grouped mo- 
rally around a single point— Jerusalem. Our next and 
third book, will lead us out of this company, and will 
have for almost its only character the man wdio, more 
than any other, represents conquering and spreading 
Cliristianity — St. Paul. Although from a certain epoch 
he may be called an apostle, Paul, nevertheless, was not 
so by the same title as the Twelve ;^ he was, in fact, a 
laborer of the second hour, and almost an intruder. 



THE APOSTLES. 



9 



Historical documents, as tliej liave reached iis, arc art 
to cause some misapprehension on this point. As -vo 
know infinitely more of the affairs of Paul than ot' 
those of the Twelve, as we possess his autlientic writ- 
ings and original memoirs relating with minute ])rec!- 
sion certain epochs of his life, we are apt to award liini 
an importance of the first order, almost superior even 
to that of Jesus. This is an error. Paul was a very 
great man, and [)layed a considerable part in the foun- 
dation of Christianity; but he shonld neither be com- 
pared to Jesus, nor even to his immediate disciples. Paul 
never saw Jesus, nor did lie ever taste tlie ambrosia of 
the Galilean's preaching ; and the most mediocre man 
who had partaken of that heavenly manna, was through 
that very privilege, superior to him who had, as it 
were, only an after-taste. Nothing is more false than 
an opinion which has become fashionable in these days, 
and which would almost imply that Paul was the true 
founder of Christianity. Jesus alone is its true 
founder; and the next places to Ilim should be reserved 
for His grand yet obscure companions — tor affection- 
ate and faithful friends who believed in Him in the 
face of death. Paul was to the first century a kind of 
isolated phenomenon. Instead of an organized school, 
he left vigorous adversaries, who, after his death, 
wished to banish him from the Church, to place him on 
the same footing with Simon the Magician,^ and would 
even have denied him the credit of that which we con- 
sider his special work — the conversion of the Gentiles.^ 
The church of Corintli, which he alone had founded,"* 
professed to owe its origin to him and to St. Peter.^ lu 
the second century Papias and St. Justin do not men 

1* 



10 



THE APOSTLES. 



tion his name ; and it was not till later, when oral tra- 
dition was lost and Scripture took its place, that Paul 
assumed a leading position in Christian theology. 
Paul, indeed, had a theology. Peter and Mary Mag- 
dalene had none. Paul has left elaborate works, and 
none of the writings of the other apostles can dispute 
the palm with his in either importance or authenticity. 

At the first glance, the documents relating to the period 
embraced in this voluuie would seem scanty and quite 
insufficient. Direct testimony is contined to the earlier 
chapters of the Acts of the A[)ostles, the historical 
value of which is open to grave objections. The 
light thrown ujion this obscui-e interval by the last 
chapters of the Gospels, and above all by the Epistles 
of St. Paul, however, somewhat dissipates the shadows. 
An ancient writer serves to nuike us acquainted not 
only with the exact epoch when he wrote, but with the 
epoch which preceded it. Every written work suggests, 
in fact, retrospective inductions upon the state of 
Society whence it proceeded. Though written for the 
most part between the years 53 and 62, the Epistles of 
Sr. Paul are replete with information about the first 
years of Christianity. While speaking here of great 
events without ])recise dates, the essentinl point is to 
sliow the conditions in which they originated ; and 
while on this subject, I should state, once for all, that 
the running dates given at the head of each page (of 
the P^rench edition) are only approximative. The 
chronology of those early years has but very few fixed 
points. Nevertheless, thanks to the care which the 
compiler of the Acts has taken not to interrupt the 
series of facts ; tlianks to the Epistle to the Galatians. 



THE AP( STLES. 



11 



where there are several numerical indications of marked 
value; and thanks to Josephus, who furnishes us with 
the dates of events in profane history allied to undoubted 
facts concerning the apo.-tles — it is possible to arrange a 
probable chronology where the chances of error are 
Confined within tolerably restricted limits 

1 \ull repeat here at the beginning of this book what 
I said at the begiiniing of my Life of Jesus. IIy[)othesis 
is indispensable in histories of this character, where 
only the general effect is certain, and where almost 
all the details ai-e more or less dubious, in consequence 
of the legendary na ure of the autlu>riiies. There is 
no hypothesis at all to be made in regard to e})Oclis of 
which we know nothing. To attempt t<> reproduce a 
group of antirpie statuary which has certainly existed, 
but of which we have not even a fragment, and about 
which we possess no written information, is a purely 
arbitrary work; but what can be more legitimate than 
to try to re-arrange the tVieze f>f the Pai'thenon from 
the portions which remain, aixi with the aid of aiicient 
descriptions of drawings made in the seventeenth cen- 
tury, and all other possible means of information — in 
a woj'd, to become inspii-cl with the style of these 
inimitable sculptures, and to endeavor to grasp their 
soul and spirit? It need not be said after the eti'ort 
that the work of the ancient sculptor has been repro- 
duced ; but that everything possible has been done to 
approach it. Such a procedure is much more legiti- 
mate in history, because the doubtful forms of language 
permit that which tlie nuirble does not. Nothing pre- 
vents us from pro})osing to the reader a choice be; ween 
dilferent suppositions. The conscience of the writer 



12 



THE APOSTLES. 



need not trouble hiui as long as he presents as certain, 
that which is certain ; as probable, that which is prol>a- 
ble ; as possible, tliat which is possible. When history 
and legend glide together, it is only the general effect 
which need be followed ont. Oiir third book, for which 
we shall have documents absolutely historical, and in 
which it will be our function to depict characters 
clearl)^ defined, and to relate facts distinctly set forth, 
will thus present a firmer narrative. It will be seen, 
however, that the physiognomy of tliat period is, upon 
the whole, not known with certainty. Accomplished 
facts speak louder than biographical details. We know 
very little about tiie incomparable artists to whoiri we 
are indebted for the masterpieces of Greek ai-t ; yet 
these masterpieces really tell us more of the individu- 
ality of their authors, and of tiie public that appreciated 
them, than could the most circumstantial nai-rations or 
the most authentic text. 

The documents to which we must look for informa- 
tion concerning what was done immediately after the 
death of Jesus, are the last chapters of tiie Gospels, 
containing the account of the apparitions of the risen 
Christ.^ I do not attend to repeat here my estimate of 
the value of these documents given in the "Life of 
Jesus." We hav^e, happily, in this question, features 
wanting too often in that work : I would refer to a pro- 
minent passage in St. Paul (L Corinthians xv. 5-8), 
which establishes — first, the reality of the apparitions or 
appearances of Christ; second, the duration of these 
apparitions, difi:"ering from the accounts in the synop- 
tic Gospels ; third, the variety of localities where these 
apparitions were manifest, contrary to Mark and to Luke. 



THE ArOSTLES. 



13 



Tlie study vf the furidaniental text, in addition to luany 
other reasons, contirnis us in tlie views we have ah-eady 
expressed upon the i-eciprocal relation of the synopti- 
cal Gosj)els and the fourth Gospel. As regards the 
resurrection and subsequent appearances of Christ, the 
fourth Gospel maintains the same superiority which 
it shows throughout its entire history of Jesus. It is 
to this Gospel rhat we mug' k>ok for a connected and 
logical narrative, suggestive of that which remains 
hidden behind it. I would touch upon the most diffi- 
cult of questions relating to the origins of Christianity, 
in asking, " What is the historical value of the fourth 
Gospel? " My views on this point in my ''Life of Jesus" 
have elicited tlie strongest objections brought against 
the wovk by intelligent critics. Almost all the scholars 
who apply the rational method to the history of theo- 
logy reject the fourth Gosjjcl as in all respects apocry- 
phal ; but though I have I'eflected much of late on this 
problem, 1 cannot modify to any material degree my 
previous opinion, though, out of respect to the general 
sentiment on this point, 1 deem it my duty to set forth 
in detail the reasons for my persistence ; and I will 
devote to these reasons an A})pendix to a revised and 
corrected edition of the '' Life of Jesus" which is 
shortly to appear. 

For the history we are about to dwell upon, the 
Acts of the Apostles form the most important documen- 
tary reference ; and an explanation of the charactei* of 
this work, of its historical value, and of interpretations 
I put upon it, is here desirable. 

There can be no doubt that the Acts of the Apostlea 
were written by the author of tlie third Gospel, and 



14 



THE APOSTLES. 



form a continuation of that work. It is not necessary 
to stop and pr(.)ve tliis proposition, wiiicli has never 
been seriously contested.^ The preface wliich is at the 
beg-inning ot* eacli work, the dedication of both to 
Theophilus, and the perfect resenibhince ot style and 
ideas, are abundant demonstration of the fact. 

A second })ropositioM, not as certain, but which may 
nevertheless be j-egarded very probable, is that the 
author of the Acts was a disciple of Paul, who accom- 
panied him in most of his travels. At first glance 
this proposition appears indubitable. In several 
places, afrer the lOth verse of Chapter xvi., the 
author of the Acts uses in the narrative the ])ronoun 

we," thus indicating that the writer thenceforth 
formed one of the apostolic band which surrounded 
Paul. This would seem to demonstrate the matter ; 
and the only issue which appeal's to lessen the force of 
the argument is the theory that the passages where 
tiie ])ronoun " we " is found, had been copied by the 
last compiler of the Acts in a previous manuscript, in 
the original memoirs of a disciple of Paul, and that 
this compiler or editor ha<l inad vertenily foi-gotten to 
substitute for " w^e " the name of the narrator. This 
explanation is, however, hardly admissible. Such an 
error might naturally exist in a more careless compila- 
ti<ni ; but the third Gospel and the Acts form a work 
well prepared, composed with reflection, and even 
with art ; written by the same hand, and on a connect- 
ed plan.^ The two books, taken together, are perfecily 
the same in s'yle, present the same favorite phrases, 
and exhibit the same maimer of (juoting Scripture. So 
gross a fault in the editing would be inexplicable ; and 



THE ArOSTT.ES. 



15 



we are forced to the conclusion that the person who 
wrote tlie close of the work, wrote the beginning of it, 
and that the narrator of the whole is the same who nsed 
tlie word " we " in the passages alluded to. 

This will appear still more probable on remember- 
ing under what circumstances the narrator thus refers 
to liis association with Paul. The use of the word 
" we " begins when Paul for the first time enters 
Macedonia (xyi. 10), and closes when he leaves Phi- 
lippi. It occurs again when Paul, visiting Macedonia 
for the last time, goes once more to Pliilippi (xx. 5, 6) ; 
and tliencef )rward to the close, the narrator remains 
with Paul. On furthei* I'emarking that the chapters 
where the narrator accompanies the apostle ai'e pai'ti- 
cular and precise in their character, there will be little 
reason to doubt that the f )rmer was a Macedonian, or 
more probably, perhaps, a Phili')pian.^ who came to 
Paul at Troas tlui-ing the second mission, reiiiained at 
Philippi after the departure of the apostle, and on 
his last visit to that ciiv (the third mission) joined him, 
to leave him no more during his wanderings. Is it 
})robable that a com])iler, wri;ing at a distance, wouhl 
allow^ himselt' to be iniluenced to such a degree by the 
reminiscences of another ? These reminiscences would 
not harmonize with the general style. The narrator 
who used the we " would have his own style and 
method,^'' and would be nioi-e like Paul than the gene- 
ral editor of the WT)rk ; but the fact is, that the whole 
work is perfectly homogeneous. 

' It seems surjn'ising that any one should be found 
to covitradict a pi-oposition a])parently so evident. But 
the critics of the Xew Testament bring forward plenty 



16 



THE APOSTLES. 



of commentaries wliicli are found on examinati to 
be full of uncertainty. As regards style, ideas, and 
doctrines, the Acts are by no means what one would 
expect of a disciple of Paul. In no respect do they 
resemble the Epistles, nor can there be found therein a 
trace of those bold doctrines wdiich showed the origi- 
nality of the Apostle to the Gentiles. The tempera- 
ment of St. Paul is that of a rigid Protestant ; the 
author of the Acts produces the effect of a good and 
docile Catholic, with a tendency to optimism; call- 
ing each priest a holy priest," eacli bishop '* a great 
bishop," and ready to adopt every fiction i-ather than to 
acknowledge that these holy priests and these great 
bishops quarrelled, and sometimes most bitterly, among 
themselves. Though always professing the greatest 
admiration for Paul, the author of the Acts avoids giv- 
ing him the title of apostle,^^ and is disposed to award 
to Peter the credit of the initiative in the conversion 
of the Gentiles. One would deem him a disciple of 
Peter rather than of Paul. We shall soon show that in 
two or three instances his principles of conciliation led 
him to grave errors in his biography of Paul. He 
was inexact,^^ and above all, guilty of omissions truly 
strange in one who was a disciple of that apostle. He 
does not at all allude to the Epistles ; he omits impor- 
tant facts.^* Even in the portions relating to the 
period when he was supposed to be a constant com- 
panion of Paul's, he is dry, ill-informed, and far from 
entertaining and on the whole, the vagueness of cer- 
tain poi'tions of the narrative would iniply tliat the 
Triter had no direct or even indirect relation with the 
Apostles, but wrote about the year 100 or 120. 



THE APOSTLES. 



17 



Is it necessary to pause here to discuss these objec- 
tions? I think not ; and I persist in believing that the 
last writer or editor of the Acts is really that disciple 
of Paul who used the " we " in the conchiding chap- 
ters. All the discrepancies, however inseparable tliey 
may appear, should be at least held in suspense, if not 
wholly done away with, by the argument resulting 
from the use of this word " we." It may be added, 
that in attributing the Acts to a companion of Paul, 
two peculiarities are explained — tho disproportion of 
the parts of the work, three-tiftlis of which are devoted 
to Paul ; and the dis[)roportion which may be observed 
in the biograph}^ of Paul, whose first mission is very 
briefly spoken of, while certain parts of the second and 
third missions, especially the concluding travels, are 
related with minute details. A man wholly unfamiliar 
with the apostolic history would not have practised 
these inequalities. The general design of the work 
would have been better conceived. It is this very dis- 
proportion that distinguishes history written from docu- 
ments, from tliat wholly or in part original. The his- 
torian of the closet takes for recital events themselves, 
but the writer of memoirs avails himself of recollec- 
tions or personal relations. An ecclesiastical historian, 
a sort of Eusebius, writing about the year 120, would 
liave left us a book quite differently arranged, after the 
thirteenth chapter. The eccentric manner in which 
the Acts at that period leave the orbit in which they 
had until then revolved, caimot, in my opinion, be ex- 
plained in any other way than by the particular situa- 
tion of the author, and his relations with Paul. This 
view will be naturally confirmed if we find among the 



18 



THE APOSTLES. 



co-workers known to Paul, the name of the autl oi to 
whom tradition attributes the book of Acts. 

And this is really what has taken place. Both man- 
uscript and tradition give for the author of the third 
Gospel, a certain Lucanus^^ or Lucas. From what has 
been said, it is evident that if Lucas is really the 
author of the third Gospel, he is also the author of the 
Acts. JSTow, that very name of Lucas we also find 
mentioned as that of a companion of Paul, in the 
Epistle to the Colossians, iv. 14 : in the Epistle to Phi- 
lemon, 21 ; and in the Second Epistle to Timothy, iv. 11. 
This last Epistle is of more than doubtful authenticity. 
The Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon, on the 
other hand, altliough very probably authentic, are not 
the most indubitable of th3 Epistles of St. Paul ; but 
nevertheless, in any event, they date from the first 
century, and that is sutlicieiit to positively establish 
the fact that among the disciples of Paul there existed 
a Lucas. The fabricator of the Epistles to Timothy is 
certaiidy not the same one who fabricated those to 
the Colossians and Philemon (conceding, contrary to 
our opinion, that these last are apocryphal). To admit 
tliat wi-iters of fiction had attributed to Paul an 
inuiginary companion, would hardly appear probable ; 
but certainly tlie different false writers would hardly 
have fallen on the same name for this imaginary per- 
sonage. Two observations will give a special force to 
this reasoning. The first is, that the name of Lucas or 
iiucanus is an unusual one among the early Christians; 
and the second, that the Lucas of the Epistles is not 
known elsewhere. The placing of a celebrated name 
at the head of a work, as was done with the Second 



THE APOSTLES. 



19 



Epistle of Peter, and very probably witli the Epistles 
of Paul to Titus and Timothy, was in no manner 
repugnant to the custom of the times ; but no one 
would have thought of using in this way a name 
otherwise unknown. If it were the intention of the 
writer to invest his book with the authority of Paul, 
wliy did he not take the name of Paul himself, or at 
least the names of Timothy and Titus, well known 
disciples of the apostle of the Gentiles? Luke had no 
place either in tradition, legend, or history. The three 
passages in the Epistles previously alluded to were not 
enough to give him the reputation of an admitted 
authority. The Epistles to Timothy were probably 
written after the Acts ; and the mention of Luke in the 
Epistles to the Colossians and to Philemon are really 
equal to only one allusion, these two works being by 
one hand. We believe, then, that the author of the 
third Gospel was really Luke, the disciple of Paul. 

This very name of Luke or Lucanus, and the medical 
profession practised by the so-called disciple of Paul,^^ 
fully accord with the indications which the two books 
furnish in regard to their author. We have already 
stated that the author of the third Gospel and the Acts 
was probably from Philippi,^^ a Koman colony, where 
the Latin tongue was in use.^^ Besides this, the author 
of the third Gospel and the Acts was but indifferently 
acquainted with Judaism^*^ and the affairs of Palestine.^^ 
Jle knew but little of Hebrew he was familiar with 
the ideas of the heathen world,^^ and he wrote Greek in 
a tolerably correct manner. The work was composed 
far from Judea, for a people unfamiliar with geography, 
and who had respect^ neither for a marked Kabbinical 



20 



THE APOSTLES. 



science nor for Hebrew names.^^ The dominant idea 
of tlie author is, that if the people had been free t) fol- 
low their inclination, tliej would have embraced the 
faith of Jesus, and that the Jewish aristocracy pre- 
vented them from so doing.^^ lie always imparts to 
the word Jew a malevolent signification, as if it were 
synonymous with an enemy of the Cliristians and on 
the other hand he is decidedly favorable towards the 
heretic Samaritan.^^ 

To wdiat epoch can we refer the composition of this 
important work ? Luke appeai-s for the first time in 
the company of Paul, after the first journey of the 
apostle to Macedonia, about the year 52. Allowing that 
he was then twenty-five years old, it would have been 
nothing more than natural had he lived until the year 
100. The narrative of the Acts closes at the year 63,^^ 
but the compiling of the work was evidently done after 
that of the third Gospel ; and the date of the editing 
of this third Gospel being evidently referable to the 
years immediately following the fall of Jerusalem 
(year 70),^^ it is not possible the book of Acts was writ- 
ten earlier than the year 71 or 72. 

If it were quite certain that the Acts were written 
immediately after the Gospel, we might stop there. But 
some doubt exists. Several facts lead us to the belief 
that quite an interval elapsed between the compositions 
of the two works ; and there is, indeed, a singular con- 
tradiction between the last chapter of the Gospel and 
the first chapter of the Acts. In the former, the Ascen- 
sion seems to be recorded as taking place on the same 
day as the Resurrection in the latter,^^ the Ascension 
only occurred after a lapse of forty days. It is clear 



THE APOSTLES. 



21 



that this second version presents ns with a more ad- 
vanced form of the legend, adopted when it was found 
necessary to make room for the different api)arinuns 
of Christ, and to give to the post- resurrection hife 
of Jesus a complete and logical form. It may be pre- 
sumed, therefore, that this new method of arranging 
the history only occurred to the author's mind during 
the interval between the composition of the two works. 
In any event, it is somewhat remarkable that the autlior 
should feel himself obliged, a few lines further on, to 
develop his narrative by the recital of additional state- 
ments. It" his lirst book was yet in his hands, would 
he have made additions which, viewed separately, are 
so awkwardly devised ? Yet tliis even is not decisive, 
and an important circumstance gives occasion for the 
belief that Luke conceived the plan of both works at 
the same time. This circumstance is found in the pre- 
face to the Gospjl, which appears common to the 
two works.^ The contradiction to wliich we have 
alluded can probably be explained by the little care 
taken to account for every moment of time. Indeed, 
all the recitals of the post-resurrection life of Jesus 
are thorougldy contradictory in regard to tlie duration 
of that existence. So little effort was made to be truly 
historical, that the same narrator did not shrink fron^i 
proposing successively two irreconcilable systenis. The 
three descri[)rions of the Conversion of 8t. Paul in 
(he AGti?^ also show little dilferences, which only prove 
that the author was not at all anxious about prccisio!) 
in details. 

It would appear, tlien, that we are very near the truth 
m supposing that the Acts were written about the year 



22 



THE APOSTLES. 



80. The tone of the book accords with the times of the 
first Flavian emperors. The author seemed to avoid 
everything that could annoy the Romans. He loves to 
bIiow how the Roman functionaries were favorable to 
t!ie new sect ; how they even embraced its doctrines ; " 
how, at least, they defended its adherents from the ' 
Jews, and how equitable and superior to the partisan 
passions of the local authorities was the imperial justice 
of Rome.^ lie lays special stress on the advantages 
inui'ing to Paul as a Roman citizen.^' He abruptly 
cuts short his narrative at the moment when Paul 
arrives at Rome, probably to be relieved from recoi-d- 
ing the cruelties practised by I^ero towards the Chris- 
tians.^^ Striking, indeed, is the contrast between this 
narrative and the Apocalypse, written in the year 68, 
replete with memories of the infamies of Nero, and 
breathino^ throui^hout a terrible hatred for Rome. In 
the former case w^e recognise a quiet, amiable man, 
living in a time of peaceful calm. From about the year 
70 until the close of the Hrst century, the Christians 
had little to complain of. Members of the Flavian 
family had adopted Christianity. It is even possible 
that Luke knew Flavins Clemens, perhaps was one of 
his household, and may have written the work for this 
powerful personage. There are several indications 
which lead us to believe that the work was written 
in Rome, and it might be said that the author was 
influenced by the Roman Church, w^hich, from the ear- 
liest centuries, possessed the political and hierarchical 
character that has ever since distingnislied it. Luke 
could well enter into this feeling, for his views upon 
ecclesiastical authority were far advanced, and even 



THE APOSTLES. 



23 



contained the germ of the Episcopate. He wrote liis- 
tory in the apologetic tone characteristic of the otiicials 
of the Court of Rome. He acted as an ultraniontatie 
historian of Clement XIY. might have done, praisiiig 
at the same time the Pope and the Jesuits, and trying 
to persuade us that both parties in their debate observed 
the rules of charity. , Two hundred years hence it 
will be maintained that Cardinal Antonelli and M. de 
Merode loved each other like two brothers. The 
author of the Acts was the first of these coinphicunt 
narrators, piously convinced that everything in the 
Church must happen in a thoroughly evangelical 
manner. He was, too, the most artless of them all. 
Too loyal to condemn Paul, too orthodox to place 
himself outside the pale of prevalent opinion, he 
passed over real differences of docti-ine, aiming to show 
only the common end which all these great founders 
were pursuing, though by methods so opposite, and 
in face of such energetic rivali'ies. 

It will readily be understood that a man who pos- 
sesses such a disposition is, of all others, the least capa- 
ble of representing things as they really are. His- 
toric fidelity is to him a matter of indifference ; he is 
only anxious to edify the reader. Luke scarcely coti- 
cealed this tendency ; he writes " that Tlieophilus 
should understand the truth of that which the catechists 
had taught him."^^ He thus had already a settled 
ecclesiastical system which he taught officially, and the 
limit of which, as well as that of evangelical history^^' 
itself, was probably fixcil. The dominant characteristics 
of the Acts, like that of the third Gospeb^^ are a tender 
piety, a lively sympathy fur the G.'utiles,^^ a conciliatory 



24 



THE APOSTLES. 



spirit, a marked tendency towards the snpcrnatiiral, a 
love for the hnmble and lowly, a large democratic sen- 
timent, or rather a persuasion that the people were 
naturally Christian, and that the upper class prevented 
them from following out their good instincts,"^^ an 
exalted- idea of the power of the Church and of its 
leaders, and a remarkable leaning towards social com 
munism/^ The methods of composition are the same in 
the two works; and indeed in regard to the history of 
the apostles, are about as we would be in relation 
to evangelical history, if our only idea of the latter 
were deriv^ed from the Gospel according to St. Luke. 

The disadvantages of such a situation are apparent. 
The life of Jesus, told only by the writer of the third 
Gospel, would be extremely defective and incomplete. 
We know so, because in tliis case, comparison is possi- 
ble. Besides Luke, w^e possess (without speaking of the 
fourth Gospel) Matthew and Mark, who, relatively to 
Luke, are at least partially original. We can place 
our finger on the places where Luke dislocates or mixes 
np anecdotes, and can perceive the manner in which 
he colors facts according to his personal views, and 
adds pious legends to the most authentic traditions. 
Could we make a similar comparison as regards the 
Acts, would we not perceive analogous faults? The 
earliest chapters of the Acts appear to us even inferior 
to the third Gospel ; for these chapters were probably 
composed from the fewer and less universally documeii- 
tary references. 

A fundamental distinction is here necessary. In ii 
historic point of view the book of Acts is divided into 
two parts — one comprising tlie first twelve chapters, and 



THE APOSTLES. 



25 



reconntiiig tlie principal events in tlie history of tlie 
primitive Cliiirch ; and the other containing the seven 
remaining chapters, all devoted to the missions of St. 
Paul 

This second part, in itself, includes two kinds of nar- 
rative: one portion related by the narrator from liis 
ocular testimony, and the other consisting only of what 
he has heard. 

It is clear that even in this last case his authority is 
very important. The conversation of St. Paul himself 
is often drawn upon for information. Particularly 
t-* ^ards its close, the narrative is characterized by 
remarkable precision ; and the last pages of the Acts 
form indeed the only completely historical record that 
we have of the origins of Christianity. 

The tirst chapters, on the contrary, are the most open 
to attack of all in the New Testament. In regard to 
these early years, particularly, the author betrays dis- 
crepancies still more remarkable than those existing in 
liis Gospel. 

His theory of forty days; his account of the Ascen- 
sion, closing by a sort of final abduction and theatrical 
solemnity ; the fantastic life of Jesus ; his manner of 
describing the descent of the Holy Ghost, and of mira- 
culous preaching ; his methf)d of undcrstandiiig the 
gift of tongues — all are different from St. Paul all 
betray the influence of an epoch relatively inferior, and 
of a period when legendary lore finds wide credence. 
Supernatural effects and startling accessories are cha- 
li racteristic of this author, who we should remember writes 
half a century after the occurrences he describes; in a 
country far from the scene of action ; upon events which 

2 



26 



THE APOSTLES. 



neither he nor his master, Paul, has witnessed ; and fol- 
lowing traditions partly fabulous, or at least modified 
by time and repetition. Luke not only belonged to a 
different generation from the founders of Christianity, 
put he was also of a different race ; he was a Greek, 
with very little of the Jew in him, and almost a stranger 
to Jerusalem and to the secrets of Jewish life ; he had 
never mingled witli the primitive Christians, and indeed 
scarcely knew their later representatives. The miracles 
he relates, give the impression of inventions d priori 
rather than of exaggerated facts ; the iniracles of Peter 
and Paul form two series, which respond to each other,^ 
and in which the personages have a family resemblance 
Peter differs "i nothing from Paul, nor Paul from 
Peter. 

The words which he puts in the mouth of his heroes, 
although adapted to varying circumstances, are all in 
the same style, and characteristic of the author himself 
rather than those to whom he attributes them. His 
text even contains impossibilities.*^ The Acts, in a 
word, form a dogmatic history so arranged as to support 
the ortliodox doctrines of the time or inculcate the 
ideas which most fully accorded with the pious views 
of the author. Nor could it be otherwise. The ori- 
gin of each religion was only known through the state- 
ments of its adherents. It is only the sceptic who 
w^'ites history ad narrandum. 

These are not simply the suspicions and conjec- 
tures of a carping and defiant criticism. They are well 
founded inductions ; every time that we have reviewed 
the Acts we have found the book systematically faulty. 
The control which we can demand of the synoptical 



THE APOSTLES. 



27 



texts, we can denumd also of St. Paul, and particu 
lany oi tlie Epistle to tlie Galatiaiis. It is clear, then, 
wliere the Acts and the Epistles do not accord, prefer- 
ence should always be given to the latter, which 
are older, possess absolute authenticity, thorough sin- 
cerity, and freedom from legendary corruption. The 
most important doctrines for history are those which 
possess in the least degree the historic form. The 
authority of chronicles must give place to medals, 
maps, or authentic letters. Yiewed in this light, the 
epistles of undoubted authors and well-authenticated 
dates form the basis of all the history of Christian ori- 
gins. Without them, doubts would weaken and de- 
stroy all faith even in the life of Jesus. Now, in twc 
very important instances, the Epistles display in bi'oad 
light the peculiar tendencies of the author of the Acts, 
and his desire to elface every trace of the dissensions 
which had existed between Paul and the apostles at 
Jerusalem.^ 

And firstly, the author of the Acts makes out that 
Paul, after the accident at Damascus (x. 19, and fol- 
lowing verses ; xxii. IT, and following verses), came to 
Jerusalem at an epoch when his conversion was hardly 
known ; that he had been presented to the apostles ; 
that he had lived with them and the faithful brethren 
on the most cordial terms ; that he had disputed pub- 
licly witli the Hellenistic Jews, and that a conspiracy 
on their part and a celestial revelation led to his de- 
parture from Jerusalem. Now Paul informs us that 
the matter was quite different. To prove that he owea 
to Jesus Himself and not to the Twelve ins aoctrme and 
mission, he says (Gal. 1. 11, and following verses) that 



28 



THE APOSTLES. 



after liis conversion he avoided taking counsel with iwy 
one,^^ or going to Jerusalem to consult with those who 
had been apostles before himself; but that of his own 
accord he went to preach and to curvy out his personal 
mission in Hauran ; that three days later, it is true, he 
journeyed to Jerusalem, but only to make the acquaint- 
ance of Cephas ; that he remained fifteen days, but 
saw no other apostle, excepting, perhaps, James, the 
brother of the Lord ; so that, really, his countenance 
was quite unknown to the churches of Judea. The 
etfoi-t to soften the asperities of the severe apostle and 
present him as a co workei' of the Twelve, laboring in 
concert with them at Jerusalem, hence seems without 
evidence. It has been given to appear that Jerusalem 
was his capital and point of departure ; that his doc- 
trine was so identical with that of the apostles that he 
was able, to a great degree, to take their place as 
preachers ; that his first apostolate was confined to the 
synagogues of Damascus ; that he had been a dis- 
ciple and listener, which was not the fact that the 
time between his conversion and his first journey to 
Jerusalem was very short; that his sojourn in that city 
was quite protracted ; that his preaching was received 
with general satisfaction ; that he lived on intimate 
terms with all the apostles, though he assures us that 
he had seen but two of them ; and that the faithful of 
Jerusalem took care of liim, though Paul declares that 
they were unknown to him. 

The same disposition to prove that Paul was a fre- 
quent visitor to Jerusalem, which had induced our 
author to prolong the apostle's stay in Jerusalem, seems 
also to have induced him to credit the . apostle with 



THE APOSTLES. 



29 



one lonrney too many. He says that Pai 1 c:\me to 
Jerusalem with Barnabas, bearnig the offerings of tiie 
faithful after the year 44 (Acts xi. 30 ; xii. 25). Now, 
Paul expressly declares that between the journey made 
three years after his conversion and that made in rela- 
tion to the subject of circumcision, he did not go to 
Jerusalem at all (Gal. i. and ii.) ; in other words, be* 
tween Acts ix. 26, and xv. 2, Paul makes no mention 
of any travel. One could wrongly deny the identity 
of the journey described in the second chapter of 
Galatians with that mentioned in the fifteenth chapter 
of Acts, and yet not be subject to contradiction. 
"Three years after my conversion," says St. Paul, "I 
went to Jerusalem to make the acquaintance of Cephas, 
and fourteen years afterwards I went again to Jeiuisa- 
lem." There has been some doubt whether this period 
of fourteen j^ears dates from the conversion, or from the 
journey three years subsequent to that event. We 
will assume the first hyporhedis as being most favora- 
ble to those who defend the account as given in Acts. 
There w^ould then, according to St. Paul, have been at 
least eleven years between his first and second journey 
to Jerusalem ; now surely there are not eleven years 
between that which is related in Acts ix. 2(3 and the 
following verses, and the account wdiich we find in 
Acts XI. 30, etc. By maintaining it against all show of 
truth, one would fall into another impossibility. The 
truth is, that which is related in Acts xi. 30 is contem- 
poraneous with the death of James, the son of Zebe- 
(lee,^^ which having just preceded the death, in the 
year 44, of Herod Agrippa L, furnishes us with the 
only fixed date in the Acts of the Apostles.^^ The 



80 



THE APOSTLES. 



second journey took place at least fourteen years afm 
his conversion ; and if lie had really made that jour- 
ney in the year 44 — the conversion must have occurred 
in the year 30 — a theory which is manifestly ahsurd. It 
is then impossible to allow any credence to the ctate- 
ments in Acts xi. 30 and xii. 35. 

All of these journeyings to and fro appear to be 
reported by our author in a very inexact manner; and 
in comparing Acts xvii. 14-16, and xviii. 5, with 1 
Thessalonians iii. 1-2, another discrepancy will be 
found. As this last, however, has nothing to do with 
doctrinal matters, we shall not discuss it here. 

An important feature of the subject now before us, 
and one which throws much light on this difficult ques- 
tion of the historical value of the Ads, is a coujpari- 
son of the passages relative to the discussion concern- 
ing circumcision in the fifteenth chaj)ter of Acts and 
the second chapter of the Epistle to the Galatians. Ac- 
cording to the Acts, certain of the brethren of Judea 
coming to Antioch and maintaining the necessity of 
the rite of circumcision for convened heathen, Paul, 
Barnabas, and several others were a})i)()inted as a depu- 
tation to go from Antioch to Jerusalem to consult the 
apostles and elders on this question. They were warm- 
ly received by their brethren at the Holy City, and a 
great convention was held. The sentiments of recipro- 
cal charity which prevailed, and the great satisfaction 
experienced by these co-religionists at thus meeting 
again together, dispelled all feeling of dissension. Pe- 
ter gave utterance to the opinion which had been 
antici])ated from the mouth of Paul, viz. that the con- 
verted heathen were not subject to the law of Moses. 



THE APOSTLES. 



31 



James modified this only by a very light restriction.^ 
Paul did not speak, and indeed had no reason to do so, 
because his views were fully expressed by Peter; and 
the theory of the Judean brethren found no supporters. 
According to the advice of James, a solemn decree was 
made and communicated by deputies expressly chosen 
to the various churches. 

Let us now examine the account given by Paul in 
the Epistle to the Galatians. It was his desire that 
this journey to Jerusalem should have the effect of a 
spontaneous movement, or even be deemed the result 
of a revelation. On his arrival at Jerusalem he com- 
municated his gospel to whom it concerned, and had 
private interviews with many important personages. 
No one criticised his actions nor troubled him with 
communications, but onlv beo^^ed him to remember 
the poor of Jerusalem. Titus, who accompanied him, 
consented to be circumcised, but only through the rep- 
resentations of " two false intruding brethren." Paul 
permitted this incidental concession, but he would not 
submit to them. As to the more prominent men (and 
Paul never speaks of them excepting with a shade of 
bitterness and irony), they learn nothing new from 
him. He even disputed with Cephas because he was 
wrong." At first, indeed, Cephas miiigled with every 
one without distinction. Emissaries arrived from 
James; and Peter hid himself, avoiding tlie uncircum- 
cised. Paul publicly apostrophized Cuphas, bitterly 
reproaching him for his conduct, "seeing that he did 
not keep in the narrow parh of gospel truth." 

Observe the difference. On the one side holy con- 
cord ; on the other, extreme susceptibility and half- 



32 



THE APOSTLES. 



restrained anger. On one side a harmonious council ; 
and on the other, nothing resembling it. On the one 
side a formal decree emanating from, a recognised autho- 
rity ; on the other, antagonistic o}3inions reciprocally con- 
ceding nothing excepting for form's sake. It is needless 
to say which version merits our preference. The account 
given in the Acts is scarcely truthful, because the dis- 
pute in which the Council was engaged is not alluded 
to after the Council was reunited. The two orators here 
make use of expressions contradictory to what they 
had elsewhere said. The decree which the Council is 
reported to have made, is assuredly a fiction. If this 
decree, emanating from the pen of James, had really 
been promulgated, why should the good and timid 
Peter have been afraid of the messengers sent by 
James? Why should he hide himself? He, as well 
as the Christians of Antioch, was acting in entire con- 
formity with this decree, the terms of which had been 
dictated by James himself. The discussion relating to 
circumcision took place about 51 ; yet sevei-al years after, 
about the year 50, the quarrel which this decree should 
have terminated, was more lively than ever. The 
Church of Galatia was troubled by new emissaries 
sent by the Jewish party of Jerusalem.^^ Paul ansvv^ers 
to this new attack of his enemies by his terrible Epistle. 
If the decree reported in the fifteenth chapter of the 
Acts had existed, Paul, by referring to it, would have 
had a much simpler method of bringing the debate to 
a close. ISTow, everything that he says, intimates the 
non-existence of this decree ; and in 57, Paul writing to 
the Corinthians, not only ignores it, but even violatea 
its directions. The decree commands abstinence from 



THE APOSTLES. 



33 



flesh offered to idols; but Paul, on the contrary, thiiika 
it no wrong to eat of this flesh as long as no one is 
scandalized l)v tlie act, thongli lie advises abstinence 
siiouid it give offence to any one.^"^ In 5S, at last, after 
the last journey of Paul to Jernsalem, James was more 
obstinate than ever.^'' One of the characteristic traits 
of the book of Acts, clearly proving that the author is 
less anxious to present historic truth or even to satisfy 
logical reasoning than to edify pious readers, is this fact, 
that the question of the admission of the nncircumcised 
is always on the point of being resolved without ever 
attaining tliat consummation. The baptism of the 
eunuch of C.nidia, 'he baptism of the centurion Cornelius, 
both miraculously ordered ; the f uindation of the 
Church at Antiocli (xr. 19; and f)llo\ving verses); the 
pretended Council at Jerusalem — all leave the question 
yet in suspense. In truth, it always remained in that 
state. The two fractions of buddins^ Christianitv never 
came together ; and that one wliicli maintained the 
practices of Judaism proved unfruitful, and soon van- 
ished in obscurity. So far from finding general accep- 
tation, Paul after his death was calunniiated. and even 
anathem.atized, by no inconsiderable portion of Christi- 
anity.^ 

In our third hook we shall dwell at length on the 
subject to which .these singular incidents refer. Our 
object at present is only to give a few examples of the 
manner in which the author of the Acts interpi-ets 
'history, and to show how he reconciles it with his pre- 
conceived ideas. Must we tlierefore agree with certain 
celebrated critics that the first clui-pters of the Acts are 
without autLenricity, and that his leading characters, 

2* 



THE APOSTLES. 



such as tlie eiiiincli, the centurion Cornelius, and even 
the deacon Stephen, and the pious Tabitha, are 
mere creations of fiction? By no means. It is not 
probable that the author of the Acts invented his per- 
sonages;^^ but he is a skilful lawyer who writes to 
13rove, and who, from facts of which he has heard, tries 
to deduce arijjuments in favor of his cherished theories, 
which are tlie legitimacy of the calling of the Gentiles 
and the divine institution of the hierarchy. Though 
such a document should be used with great care, its 
entire rejection would show as little critical acumen as 
its blind acceptation. Sevei'al paragraphs even in the 
lirst part possess a value universally recognised as 
re])resenting authentic memoii's quoted from the last 
compiler. The twelfth chapter, in particular, is without 
alloy, and seems to emanate from St. Mark. 

It wonld indeed be unsatihfactory if for this history 
vre had as our docunvents of reference only this legend- 
aiT book. Happily there are others which, though 
they relate dii-ectly to the period to which our third 
book will be devoted, yet throw much light uj^on this 
epoch. Such are the Epistles of St. Paul ; the Epistle 
to the Galatians, above all, Is really a treasure : the 
basis of all the chronology of that peiiod, the key 
which unlocks all, the testimony which assures the 
TJi'ist sceptical of the reality of things which cannot be 
doubted. I wish that the sei'ious readers who may 
feel tempted to regard me as too bold or too credulous, 
would re-peruse the first two chapters of this singular 
E})istle; these chapters are certainly the two most 
important pages in the history of budding Christianity. 
The Epistles of St. Paul indeed possess in their absolute 



THE APOSTLES. 



3b 



aiitlienticity an nncqnalled advantage in tin's histoiy 
Not the sliglitest doubt lias been raised by serious 
criticism against the authenticity of the Epistle to the 
Galatians, the two Epistles to the Corinthians, or tlie 
Epistle to the Romans ; while the arguments on which 
are founded the attacks on the two Epistles to the 
Thessalonians and that to the Philippians are without 
value. At the beginning of our third book we shall 
discuss the more specious though equally indecisive 
objections v/hich have been raised against the Epistle 
to tlie Colossians and the little note to Philemon ; the 
pai-ticular problem presented by the Epistle to the 
E[)hesians ; and at last the prootV. which have led ns to 
reject the two Ej)islles to Timothy and that to Titus. 
The Epistles which shall serve our need in the 
pi-esent volume are all of indubitable authoritj', while 
the deductions we shall draw from the others are quite 
independent of the question wdiether they were or 
were not dictated by Sr. Paul. It is not necessary to 
revert here to the rules of criticism which have been 
follow^ed in the comj^osition of this work, and wdilch has 
already been done in the introduction to the Life of 
Jesus. The twelve first chapters of the Acts form a 
document analogous to the synoptical Gospels and to 
be treated in the same manner. This si)ecies of docu- 
ment, half historical and half legendary, can be 
accepted neither as legend nor as history ; while in 
detail nearly everything is false, we can nevertheless 
exhume therefrom precious truths. A pure and literal 
translation of these narratives, wdiich are often contra- 
dicted by better authenticated texts, is not history. 
Often in cases where we have but one text there is 



86 



THE APOSTLES. 



fear that if otliers existed it would be contradicted. As 
regards the life of Jesus, the narrative of Lnke is 
always controlled and corrected by the two other 
synoptical Gospels and by the fourth. Is it not proba- 
ble, I repeat, that if we had a work bearing the same 
relation to the Acts that the synoptical Gospels do to 
the fourth Gospel, the book of Acts would be defec- 
tive in many points on which we now receive it as 
testimony? Entirely different rules will guide us in 
our third book, where we shall be in the full light of 
positive history, and shall possess original and some- 
times autographical information. When St. Paul 
himself relates some episode of his life, regarding 
which his interest demanded no special interpretation, 
of course we need only insert his identical words in 
our work, as Tillemont does. But, when we have to 
do with a narrator identified with a certain system, 
writing in support of certain ideas, preparing his work 
in the vague blunt style and with the higlily wrought 
colors peculiar to legendary lore, the duty of tlie critic 
is to free himself from the thraldom of the text and to 
penetrate through it 'o the truths v^^hicli it conceals, 
witliout, however, being too confident that he has dis- 
covered that truth. To debar criticism from similar 
interpretations would be as unreasonable as to limit 
the astronomer to the visible state of the heavens. 
Does not astronomy, on the contrary, involve an allow- 
ance for the parallax caused by the position of the 
observer, and construe from apparent deceptive appear- 
ances the real condition of the starry skies ? 

W^liy, then, should a literal interpretation of docu- 
ments containing irreconcilable discrepancies be urged? 



THE APOSTLES. 



87 



The first twelve chapters of the Acts are a tissue of 
mirftcles. It is an absolute rule of criticism to deny a 
place in history to narratives of miraculous circum- 
stances ; nor is this owirig to a metaphysical system^ 
for it is simply the dictation of observation. Such facts 
have never been really proved. All the pretended 
miracles near enough to be examined are referable to 
illusion or impostui-e. If a single miracle had ever 
been proved, we could not reject in a mass all those 
of ancient history; for, admitting that very many of 
these last were false, vre might still believe that some 
of them were true. But it is not so. Discussion and 
examination are fatal to miracles. Are we not then 
authorized in believing that those miracles which date 
many centuries back, and regarding which there are no 
means of forming a contradictory debate, are also with- 
out reality ? In other words, miracles only exist when 
people believe in them. The supei-natural is but another 
word for faith. Catholicism, in maintaining that it yet 
possesses miraculous power, subjects itself to the influ- 
ence of this law. The miracles of which it boasts never 
occur where they would be most effective; why should 
not such a convincing proof be brought more promi- 
nently forward ? A miracle at Paris, for instance, be- 
fore experienced savants, would put an end to all 
doubts I But, alas ! such a thing never happens. A 
miracle never takes place before an incredulous and 
sceptical public, the most in need of such a convincing 
proof. Credulity on part of the witness is the essential 
condition of a miracle. There is not a solitary excep- 
tion to the rule that miracles are never produced before 
those who are able or permitted to discuss and criticise 



38 



THE APOSTLES. 



them. Cicero, with his usual good sense and peneh-a* 
tion, asks: "Since when has this secret force .lisap- 
peared ; lias it not been since men have become less 
credulous 

" But," it may be urged, " if it is impossible to provu 
that there ever was any instance of supernatural power, 
it is equally impossible to prove tliat there was not. 
The positive savant who denies the supernatural, argues 
as gratuitously as the credulous one who admits it!" 
'N-'t at all. It is the duty of him who affirms a propo- 
sition to prove it, while he to whom the affirmation is 
made has only to listen to the proof and to dec'de 
whether it is satisfactory. If any one had asked Buifon 
to give a place in his Natural History to sirens and 
centaurs, he would have answered : " Show mea speci- 
men of ihese beings and I \<\\\ admit them; until then, 
I do iH)t admit their existence." *' But can you prove 
tliat tliey do not exist?" the other may say, and 
Butfon would re})ly : '* It is your province to prove that 
they do exist." In science the burden of proof rests on 
those who advance allege<l facts. Why, although im)u- 
merable historic writings claim their existence, do peo- 
})le no longer believe in angels and demons? Simply 
because the existence of an angel or a demon has never 
yet been proved. 

In support of the reality of miraculous agency, appeal 
is made to phenomena outside of the course of natui-al 
laws, such, for instance, as the creation of man. This 
creation, it has l>een said, could only have been com- 
passed by the dii-ect intervention of the Divinity, and 
why was not this intervention manifested at other deci- 
sive crises of the develoj)ment of the universe ? I shall 



THE APOSTLES. 



39 



not dwell upon the strange pliilosopliy an<l sordid 
appreciation of tlie Divinity manifested in such a sys- 
tem of reasoning, Histor}^ should liave its method, 
independent of all philosophy. Without at all enter 
ing upon the donuiin of theology, it is easy to show 
how defective is this argument. It is equivalent to 
maintaining ^hat everything which does not happen in 
the ordinary co!iditi(^iis of the world, everything that 
cannot be explained by the present rules of science, is 
iniraculous. But, according to this, the sun is a mira- 
cle, because science has never explained the sun ; the 
conception of mankind is a miracle, because physio- 
1 og3' is silent on that jjoint ; conscience is a miracle, 
because it is an absolute mystery ; and every animal is 
a miracle, because the origin of life is a problem of 
which we know next to nothing. The reply that eveiy 
life, every soul, is of an ordei- superior to nature, is 
simply a play upon words. So we understand it, and 
yet the word miracle remains to be explained. How" is 
that a miracle which Iia})pens every day and hour? 
The miraculous is not simply the inex[)licable, it is a 
formal deroo^ation from recoinnsed laws in the name of 
a particular desire. What we deny to the miracle is 
the exceptional state or the results of particular inter- 
vention, as in the case of a clockinaker who may have 
made a clock very handsome to look at, but requiring at 
intervals the hand of its maker to supply a deficiency 
in its mechanism. We acknowledo:e heartily that God 
may be permanently in everything, particularly in every- 
thing that lives; and we only maintain there has never 
been convincing proof of any particular intervention ot 
supernatural force. We deny the reality of supernatural 



40 



THE APOSTI^ES. 



agency until we are made cognizant of a deinonsl rated 
fact ')f this nature. To search fur this deraonstratit^ii an- 
terior to the creation of man ; to go outside of history fur 
liist(jrical miracles, dating back to epochs when all proof 
is impossible — all this is to seek refuge behind a cloud, 
to prove one doubtful proposition by another equally ob- 
scure, to bring against a recognised law an alleged fact 
of which we know nothing. If miracles, which only 
took place so long ago that no witness of them now 
exists, are invoked, it is simply because none can be 
cited for which competent witnesses can be claimed. 

In far distant epochs, beyond doubt, there occurred 
pheiiomena which, on the same scale at least, ;ire not 
repeated in the world of to-day. But there was at the 
time they liappened a cause for these j)henomena. In 
geological formations may be met a great number of 
minerals and precious stones which nature seems no 
longer to produce; and yet most of them have been 
artiiicially.recomposed by Messieurs Mitscherlich, Ebel- 
njan, De Senarmont, and Daubree. If life cannot be 
artificially produced, it is because the i-eproduction f>f 
the conditions in wliich lite commenced (if it ever did 
commence) will probably be alwaj'S beyond human 
grasp. How can the planet that disa{)peared thousands 
of years ago be brought back ? How form an expe- 
rience, which has lasted for centuries ? The diversity 
of thousands of ages of slow evolution is what one for- 
gets in denominating as miracles the phenomena which 
occnrred in other times, but which occur no more. Far 
back in the vast range of heavenly bodies, are now 
perhaps taking place movements which, nearer us, have 
ceased since a period infinitely distant. The formation 



THE APOSTLES. 



41 



of hnmniity, if we think of it as a sudden instjjntane- 
ous thing, is certain.lj of all things in the world the 
most shocking and absurd ; but it maintains its place 
in general analogies (without losing its mystery) if it is 
viewed as the result of a long-continued progress, last- 
ing during incalculable ages. The laws of matured 
lite are not applicable to embryotic life. The embryo 
develops all its organs one after another. It creates 
no more, because it is no longer at the creative age ; 
just as language is no longer invented, l)ecause there is 
no more to invent. But why longer follow up adver- 
saries who beg the question ? We ask for a proven 
miracle, and are told that it took place anterior to his- 
tory. Certainly, if any proof were wanting of the 
necessity of supernatural beliefs to certain states of tlie 
soul, it would be found in the fact that many minds 
gifted in all other points with due peneti-ation, have re- 
posed their entire fairh in an argument as desperate as this. 

Tliere are some persons wlio yield up the idea of 
physical miracles, but still nniintain the existence of a 
sort of moral miracle, without which, in their opinion, 
certain great events cannot be explained. Assuredly 
the formation of Christianity is the grandest fact in the 
religious history of the woidd ; but for all that, it is by 
no means a miracle. Buddhism and Babism have 
counted as many excited and resigned martyrs as even 
Christianity. Tlie miracles of the founding of Islam- 
ism are of an entirely different character, and I con- 
fess have vei-y little effect on me. It may, however, 
be remarked that the Mussulman doctors deduce from 
the remarkable establishment of their religion, from its 
marvellously rapid diffusion, from its rapid conquests, 



42 



THE APOSTLES. 



and from the force which gives it so absolute a govern* 
iug power, precisely the same arguments v»4iich Chris* 
tiau apologists bring forward in relation to the esta- 
l)lishiTient of Christianity, and which, they claim, show 
e.eai-ly the hand of God. Let us allow that the foun- 
dation of Christianity is something utterly peculiar. 
Another equally peculiar thing, is Hellenism ; under- 
standing by that word the ideal of perfection realized 
by grace in literature, art, and philosophy. Greek art 
surpasses all other arts, as the Christian religion sur- 
passes all other religions; and the Acropolis at Athens 
a collection of masterpieces beside which all other 
attempts are only like gi'opings in the dark, or, at the 
best, imitatio.ns more or less successful, is perliaps that 
which, above everytliing else, defies comparison. Hel- 
lenism, in other words, is as much a prodigy of beauty 
as Christianity is a prodigy of sanctity. 

A unique action or development is not necessarily 
miracnlous. God exists in various degrees in all that 
is beautiful, good, and ti'ue ; but he is never so ex- 
clusively in any one of His manifestations, that the 
pi'esence of His vitalizing breath in a religious or phi- 
losophical movement should be deemed a privilege or 
an exception. 

I am not without hope that the interval of two years 
and a half that has elapsed since the publication of the 
Life of Jesus, has led many readers to consider these 
problems with calmness. Without knowing or wish- 
ing it, religious controversy is always a dishonesty. It 
is not always its province to discuss with independence 
and to examine with anxiety ; but it must defend a 
determined doctrine, and prove that he who dissents 



THE IPOSTLES. 



43 



from it is either ignorant or dishonest. Cahnnnies, 
misconstrucdons, falsifications of ideas or words, boast- 
ing arguments on points not raised by the opponent, 
shouts of victory over errors whicli he has not com- 
mitted — none of these seem to be considered un- 
worthy weapons by those who believe they are called 
npon to maintain the interests of an absolute truth. I 
would be ignorant indeed of history, if I had not 
known all this. I am indifferent enough, however, not 
to feel it very deeply ; and I have enough respect for 
the faith, to kindly appreciate whatever was touch- 
ing or genuine in the sentiments which actuated my 
antagonists. Often, after observing the artlessness, the 
pious assurance, the frank anger, so freely expressed 
by so many good people, I have said as John IIuss did 
at the sight of an old woman perspiring under the 
weight of a faggot she was feebly dragging to his 
stake : 0 sancta simpUcitas ! " I have only regretted 
at times the waste of sentiment. According to the 
beautiful expression of Scripture: "God is not in the 
fire." If all this annoyance proved instrumental in 
aiding the cause of truth, there would be something 
of consolation in it. But it is not always so ; Truth is 
not for the angry and passionate man. She reserves 
herself for those who, freed from partisan feeling, from 
persistent affection, and enduring hate, seek her with 
entire liberty, and with no mental reservation refer- 
ring to human affairs. These problems form only one 
of the innumerable questions with which the world is 
crowded, and which the curious are fond of studying. 
No one is offended by the announcement of a mere 
theoretical opinion. Those who would guard their 



44 



THE APOSTLES. 



faith MS a treasure can defend it very easilj^ by ignor- 
ing all works written in an opposing spirit. The timid 
w^onld do better by dispensing with reading, 

Tliere are persons of a very practical turn of mind, 
who, on hearing of any new scientific WT)rk, ask what 
politic.il party the autlior aims to please, and who 
think that every poem should contain a moral lesson. 
These people think that propagandism is the only ob- 
ject that a w^riter has in view. The idea of an art or 
science aspiring only after the true and beautiful, with- 
out regard either to policy or politics, is sometliing 
quite strange to them. Between sucli persons and our- 
selves misapprehensions are inevitable. "There ai-e 
people," said a Greek philosoplier, " who take with 
their left hand what is offered to them with tlieir right." 
A number of letters, dictated by a really honest senti- 
ment, wh.ich have been sent me, may be summed up 
in the question, '* What is the matter with you ? What 
end are you aiming at?" Why, I write for precisely 
the same reason that all historical writers do. It I 
could have several lives, I would devote one to writing 
a life of Alexander, another to a history of Athens, 
and a third to either a history of the French Revolu- 
tion or the monkish order of St. Francis. In wi'iting 
these works I would be actuated by a desire to find the 
truth, and would endeavor to make the mighty events 
of the past known with the greatest possible exactness, 
and related in a manner worthy of them. Far from 
me be the thought of shocking the religious faith of 
any person ! Such w^orks should be prepared with as 
much supreme indifiference as if they were written in 
another planet. Every concession to the scruples of 



THE APOSTLES. 



45 



rin inferior order, is a clerogatinTi from the clignlry and 
cnltLire of art and truth. It can at r)nce be seen tliat. 
tlie absence of proselytisin is the leading feature of 
works composed in such a spirit. 

The first principle of the critical school is tlie allow- 
ance in matters of faith of all that is needed, and the 
adaptation of beliefs to individual wants. "Why should 
we be foolish enough to concern ourselves about things 
over which no one has any control ? If any person 
adopts our principles it is because he has tlie mental 
tendency and the education adapted to them ; and all 
our efforts will not be able to impart this tendency and 
this education to those who do not naturally possess 
them. Philosophy differs from faith in tliis. that faith 
is believed to operate by itself independently of the 
intelligence acquired from d(_^gmas. AVe. on the con- 
trary, hold that truth only pc»ssesses value when it 
comes of itself, and when tlie order of its ideas is 
compreliended. We do not consider ourselves oblig- 
ed to maintain silence in regard to those opinions 
which may not be in accord with the belief of some of 
our fellow-creatnres ; we will make no sacrifice to the 
exigencies of differing orthodoxies, but neither have 
we any idea of attacking them ; we shall only act as 
if they did not exist. For myself, it would be reailv 
painful to me for any one to convict me of an eff^-rt to 
attract to my side of thinking a solitary adherent who 
would not come voluntarily. I would conclude that 
n:iy mind was perturbed in its serene liberty, or that 
something weighed heavily upon it, if Iwere no longer 
able to content myself with the simple and joyous con- 
templation of the universe. 



46 



THE APOSTLES. 



It will readily be supposed that if my object was to 
make war upon established religions, I siioiild adrpt 
different tactics, and should confine myself to exposing 
the impossibilities and the contradictions in texts and 
dogmas that are viewed as sacred. This work has been 
often and ably done. In 1865^^ I wrote as, follows : 
''I protest once for all against the false interpretation 
which has been given to my writings, in accepting as 
polemical works the various essays and i-eligious and 
historical matters which I have published, or may here- 
after publish. Yievved as polemical works, these es- 
says, I am well aware, are very nnskilful. Polemics 
demand a strategy to which I am a sti'anger ; it re 
quires the writer to choose the weak point of his ad- 
versaries, to hold on to it, to avoid uncertain questions, 
to beware of all concession, and practically renounce 
even the essence of scientific spirit. Such is not my 
method. Eevelation and the supernatural — those fun- 
damental questions around which must revolve all reli- 
gious discussion — I do not touch upon ; not because I 
may not answer these questions with thorough cer- 
tainty, but because such a discussion is not scientific, 
or, rather, because independent science presupposes 
that such questions are already answered. For me to 
pursue any polemical or proselyting end, would be to 
bring forward among the most difficult and delicate 
problems, a question which can be more satisfactorily 
treated in the more practical phraseology in which 
controversialists and apologists usually discuss it. Far 
from regretting the advantages vvdiich I thus deprive 
myself of, I would be well pleased thereat, if I could 
thus convince theologians that my writings are of a 



THE APOSTLES. 



4:7 



different order to tlieirs, that tliey are only iifended as 
scliolai'ly researches, open to attack as such, wheii they 
soniethiies attempt to apply to the Cliristian and Jew- 
ish religions tive same principles of criticism whicli are 
adopted towards other branches of history and philo- 
logy. Questions of a purely theological nature I am 
no more called upon to discuss, than are Burnouf, 
Creuzer, Guizniaut, and other critical historians of 
ancient religions, to defend the creeds which they have 
made their stud3^ The history of humanity seems to 
me to be a vast grouping where everything, though 
unequal and diverse, is of the same general order, 
arises from the same causes, and is subject to the same 
laws. These laws I seek without an^^ other intention 
than to understand them exactly as they are. Kothing 
will ever induce me to leave a sphere, humble it may 
be, but valuable to science, for the paths of the contro- 
versialist, who is always certain of the countenance of 
those interested in opposing war to war. 

For the polemic system, the necessity of which 1 
do not deny, though it is neither adapted to my 
tastes nor to my capabilities, Yoltaire was enougli. 
One cannot be, at the same time, a good controver- 
sialist and a good historian. Yoltaire, so weak in mere 
erudition ; Yoltaire who, to us initiated into a better 
method, seems so poorly to comprehend the spirit of 
antiquity, is twenty times victorious over adversaries 
yet more destitute of true criticism than himself. A 
new edition of the works of this great man would furnish 
a reply that is now much needed to the usurpations of 
theology — a reply poor in itself, but well suited to that 
which it would combat ; a weak, old-fashioned reply 



48 



THE APOSTLES. 



to a weak, old-fasliloned science. Let iis, who possess 
a love of the true and an inquiring spirit, do better. 
Let us leave these discussions to those who care for 
them ; let us work for the limited class who follow the 
true path of the human mind. Popularity, I know, is 
more easily gained by those w^riters who, instead of 
pursuing the most elevated form of truth, devote their 
energies to combating the opinions of their age ; yet 
b^' a just compensation, they are of no value after the 
theories they combat are abandoned. Those who, iu 
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, refuted magic 
and astrology, rendered an immense service to right 
and truth ; and yet their writings are to-day unknown, 
and their very victory has consigned them to oblivion. 

I shall always hold to this rule of conduct as the only 
one suitable to the dignity of the savard. I know that 
researches into religious history always bring one face 
to face with vital questions which seem to demand a 
solution. Persons unfamiliar with free speculation 
do not at all comprehend the calm deliberation of 
thought ; practical minds grow impatient of a science 
which does not respond to their desires. Let us guard 
against this vain ardor; let us remain in our respective 
Churches, profiting by their secular teachings and their 
traditions of virtue, participating in their chfiritable 
works, and enjoying the poetry of their past. Let us only 
reject their intolerance. Let us even pardon this into- 
lerance, for like egotism it is one of the necessities of 
human nature. The formation of new religious fami- 
lies or beliefs, or any important change in the proportions 
of those existing to-day, is contrary to present indica- 
tions. Catholicism will soon be scarred and seamed by 



THE APOSTLES. 



49 



great scliisms ; the days of Avignon, of the anti-popes, 
of the Clementists and the Urbanists, are about to return. 
The Catholic Church will see another sixteenth century ; 
and yet, notwithstanding its divisions, it will remain 
the Catholic Church. It is not probable that for a hun- 
dred years to come the I'elative proportions of Protest- 
ants, Catholics, and Jews, will be materially varied. But 
a great change will be accomplished, or, at least, people 
will become sensible of it. Every one of these religious 
families will have two classes of adherents ; the one be- 
lieving simply and absolutely after the manner of the 
middle ages, the other sacriticiiig the letter of the law 
and maintaining its spirit. In every communion this 
latter great class will increase ; and as the spirit draws 
together quite as much as the letter separates, the spi- 
ritually-minded of each faith will be brought nearer. 
Fanaticism will be lost in a general tolerance. The 
theory of the dogma will become merely a mysterious 
vault which no one will ever care to open ; and if the 
vault be empty, of what importance is it ? Only one re- 
ligion — Islamism alone, I fear— will resist this mollify- 
ing process. Among certain Mahommedans ot the old 
school, several eminent men in Constantinople, and 
above all among the Persians, there are the germs of 
a tolerant and conciliatory spirit. If these germs of 
good be crushed by the fanaticism of the Ulemas, Is- 
lamism will pei'ish ; fur two things are evident — that 
modern civilization does not wish to see the old reli- 
gions entirely die out; and that, on the other hand, it will 
not be impeded in its work by senile religious institu- 
tions ; these latter must either bend or break. 

And why should pure religion, which cannot be 



60 



THE APOSTLES. 



deemed the exclusive attribute of any one sect or 
ehurcli, encumber itself with the inconveniences ol a 
position the advantages of which are denied it? Why 
fthould it array standard against standard, all the time 
Jvuowing that safety and peace are in the reach of all, 
according to the merits of each. Protestantism, which 
proceeded from a very absolute faith, led in the six- 
teenth centuiy to an open rupture. So far from show- 
ing any reduction of dogmatism, the reform w\'\s 
marked by a revival of the most i-igid Christian spirit. 
The movement of the nineteenth century, on the other 
hand, arises from a sentiment which is the inverse pro- 
position of dogmatism. It will not do away with any 
sect or chui'ch, but will lead to a general concentration 
of all the churches. Divisions and schisms increase 
the fanaticism and provoke reaction. The Luthers 
and Calvins made the Caraffas, the Gliislieri, Loyolas, 
and Pliilip IT. If our church repels us, do not let us 
recriminate ; let us the better appreciate the mildness 
of modern manners which has made this hatred impo- 
tent ; let us console ourselves by reflecting on that 
invisible church which includes excommunicated 
saints, and the noblest souls of every age. The 
banished of the church are always its best blood ; they 
are in advance of their times ; the heresy of the 
present is the orthodoxy of the future. And what, after 
all, is the excommunication of men? The heavenly 
Father only excommuicates the narrow-minded and 
selfish. If the priest refuses to admit us to the ceme- 
tery, let us prohibit our families from beseeching him 
to alter his decision. God is the Judge ; and the Earth 
is a kind and impartial mother. The body of the good 



THE APOSTLES. 



51 



man, placed in ground not consecrated, carries tliere a 
consecraiion wirh it. 

There are, without doubt, positions when the appli- 
cation of these principles is difficult. The spirit of 
liberty, like the wind, bloweth wherever it listeth. 
There are often people like clei'gynien, riveted, as it 
were, to an absoUite faith ; but even among them, a 
noble mind rises to the full extent of the issue. A 
worthy country priest, through his solitary studies and 
tlie simple purity of his life, comes to a knowledge of 
the impossil)ilities of literal dogmatism ; and must he 
therefore sadden those whom he formerly consoled, and 
explain to the simple folk those mental processes which 
they cannot comprehend ? Heaven forbid ! Tiiere are 
no two men in the world whose paths of duty are 
exactly alike. The excellent Bishop Colenso showed an 
honesty which the Church since liter origin has not seen 
surpassed, in writing out his doubts as they occurred 
to him. But the humble Catholic priest, surrounded 
by thnid and narrow-minded soub, must be quiet. Oh ! 
how many close-mouthed tombs about our village 
churches, hide similar poetic reticence and angelic 
silence ! Do those who speak when duty dictates, ecpial, 
after all, in merit, those who in secret cherish and 
restrain the doubts known only to God ? 

Theory is not practice. The ideal should remain the 
ideal, for it may become soiled and contaminated by 
contact with reality. Sentiments appropriate enough 
to those who are preserved by their innate nobleness; 
from all moral danger, are not as suitable to those who 
are of a lower grade. It is only from ideas sti-ictly 
limited that great actions are evolved ; and this is 



52- 



THE APOSTLES. 



because linman capacity" is limited. A inan wInAly 
without prejudice would be powerless and uninfluen- 
tial. Let us enjoy tlie liberty of the sous of God ; but 
lot lis also beware that we are not accomplices in dimin* 
isliing the sum-total of virtue in the world — a result 
which would necessarily arise, were Christianity to be 
weakened. What, indeed, would we be without it? 
What would replace the noble institutions to which it 
gave birth, such as the association of the Sisters of 
Charity ? How cold-hearted, mean, and petty mankind 
would become! Our disagreement with those who 
believe in positive religions, is, after all, purely scien- 
tific; we are with them at heart; and we combat but 
one enemy, which is theirs as well as ours — and this 
enemy is vulgar materialism. 

Peace, then, in the name of God I Let the different 
orders of n^ien live side by side, and pass their days, 
not in doing injustice to their own proper spirit by 
making concessions which would only deteriorate them, 
but in mutually supporting each otlier. l^othing here 
below should rule to the exclusion of its opposite ; no 
one force should have the power to suppress other 
forces. The true harmony of humanity results from 
the free use of discordant notes. We know too well 
what follows when orthodoxy succeeds in overpowering 
science. The Mussulman element in Spain was extir- 
pated because it clung too fondly to its oi'thodox views. 
The experience of the French Revolution shows us 
wdiat we may expect when Rationalism attempts to 
govern people without reference to their religious 
needs. The instinct of art, carried to a high pitch of 
refinement, but without honesty, made of Italy a den 



THE APOSTLES. 



5S 



of thieves and cut-throats. Stupidity and mediccrity 
are the bane uf certain Protestant connti-ies, wliere, 
under the pretext of common sense and Christian 
spirit, art and science are both absolutely degraded. 
Lucretia of Home and Saint Theresa, Aristophanes and 
Socrates, Yoltaii-e and Francis of Assisi, Raphael and 
St. Yincent de Paul, all enjoyed, to an equal degree, 
the right of existence, and humanity would have been 
lesened, had a single one of these individual elements 
been wanting. 



CHAPTER I. 



FORMATION OF BELIEFS RELATIVE TO THE RESURRECnTON 
OF JESUS. — THE APPARITIONS AT JERUSALEM. 

Jesus, although constantly speaking of resurrection 
and of a new life, had not declared very plainly that 
he should rise again in the flesh.^ 

The disciples, during the hrst hours which elapsed 
after his death, had, in this respect, no fixed hope. The 
sentiments which they so artlessly confide to us show 
that they believed all to be over. They bewail and 
bury tlieir friend, if not as one of the common herd 
who had died, at least as a person whose loss was ii're- 
parable f they were sorrowful and cast down ; the 
expectation which they had indulged of seeing him 
realize the salvation of Israel, is pioved to have been 
vanity ; we should speak of them as of men who have 
lost a grand and beloved illusion. 

But enthusiasm and love do not recognise situations 
unfruitful of results. They amuse themselves with 
what is impossible, and, rather than renounce all hope, 
they do violence to every reality. Many words of their 
Master which they remembered — those, above all, in 
which he had predicted his future advent — might be 
interpreted to mean that he would rise from the tomb.^ 
Such a belief was, otherwise, so natural, that the faiih 
of the disciples would have been sufficient to have 
invented it in all its parts. The great prophets Enoch 



THE APOSTLES. 



55 



and Elijah had not tasted deatli. The}^ began to ima- 
gine that the patriarchs and the chief fathers of the old 
law were not really dead, and that their bodies were 
sepulchred at Hebron, alive and animated. To Jesus 
had happened the same fortune which is the lot of all 
men who have riveted the attention of their fellow-men. 
The world, accustomed to attribute to them superhuman 
virtues, conld not admit that they had submitted to the 
unjust, revolting, iniquitous law of the death common 
to all. At the moment at which Mahomet expired, 
Omar rushed from the tent, sword in hand, and de- 
clared that he would hew down the head of any one 
who shonld dare to say that the prophet was no more.^ 

Death is so absurd a thing when it smites the man 
of genius or the man of large heart, that people will 
not believe in the possibility of sucli an error on the 
part of nature. Heroes do not die. What is true exist- 
ence but the recollection of us which survives in the 
hearts of those who love iis ? For some years this 
adored Master had tilled the little world by which He 
was surrounded with joy and hope ; could they consent 
to allow Him to the decay of the tomb? I^o ; He had 
too entirely lived in those who surrounded Him, that 
they could but affirm, tliat after His death He wonld 
live for ever.^ 

The day which followed the burial of Jesus (Saturday, 
Ihe 15th of the month Nisan), was occupied v/ith such 
thoughts as these. All manual labor was forbidden on 
account of the Sabbath. But never was repose more 
fruitful. The Christian conscience had, on that day, 
only one object; the Master laid low in the tomb. The 
women, especially, overwhelmed liim in spirit with the 



56 



THE APOoTLES. 



most tender caresses. Their thoughts leave not for an 
instant this sweet friend, lying in His myrrh, whom the 
wicked had slain ! Ah ! doubtless, the angels are sur- 
rounding Him, and veiling their faces with His shroud. 
iWell did He say that He should die, that His death 
would be the salvation of the sinner, and that He should 
live again in the kingdom of His father. Yes! Ho 
shall live again ; God will not leave His Son a prey to 
hell ; He will not suffer His elect to see corruption.' 
What is this tombstone wdiich weighs npon Him ? Ho 
will raise it np ; He will reascend to the right hand of 
His Father, wlience He descended. And we shall see 
Him again ; w^e shall hear His charming voice ; wo 
shall enjoy afresh His conversations, and thej will have 
slain Him in vain. 

The belief in the immortality of the soul, wdiich 
through the influence of the Grecian phih>sopliy luis 
become a dogma of Christianity, is easily permitted to 
take the part of death ; l)ecause the dissolution of the 
body, by this hypothesis, is nothing else than a deli- 
verance of the soul, hereafter freed fi-om the trouble- 
some bonds without which it is able to exist. But this 
theory of man, considered as a being composed of two 
substances, was by no means clear to the Jews. The 
reign of God and the reign of the spirit consisted, in 
their ideas, in a complete transformation of the world 
and in the annihilation of death.^ To acknowledge 
that death could have the victory over Jesus, over him 
who came to abolish the power of death, this was the 
height of absurdity. The very idea that he could 
suffer had previously been revolting to his disciples.^ 
Tliey had no choice, then, between despair or heroic 



THE APOSTLES. 



57 



affirmation. A man of penetration nii_^-]it \\-\vt an« 
iioimced during tlie Saturday that Jesus would arise. 
The little Christian society, on that day, worked the 
veritable miracle ; tliej resuscitated Jesus in their hearts 
by the intense love which they bore towards him. 
They decided that Jesus had not died. The love of 
these passionately fond souls was, truly, stronger than 
death and as the charactei'istic of a passionate love is 
to be communicated, to light up like a torch a senti- 
ment which resembles it and is straightway indefi- 
nitely pro2:>agated ; so Jesus, in one sense, at the time of 
wh^'ch we are speaking, is already resuscitated. Only 
let a material fact, insignificant of itself, allow the ])er- 
suasion that his body is no longer here below, and the 
dofjma of the resurrection will be established for ever. 

TLis was exactly what ha|)[)ened in the circum- 
stances which, being partly obscure on account of the 
incoherence of their ti-aditions, and above all on ac- 
count of the contradictions which they pi'esent, have 
nevertheless been seized upon wiih a sufficient degree 
of probability." 

On the Sunday morning, at a very early hour, the 
women of Galilee who on Friday evening h-id hastily 
embalmed the body, repaired to the cave where they 
had provisionally deposited it. These were, Mary of 
Magdala, Mary Cleophas, Salome, Joanna, wife of 
Khouza, and others.^^ They came, probably, each from 
her own abode ; for if it is difficult to call in question 
the tradition of the three synoptical Gospels, according 
to which many women came to the tomb,^^ it is cer- 
tain, on the other hand, that in the two most authentic 
accounts^^ which we possess of the resurrection, Mary 



6S 



THE APOSTLES. 



of Magdalii plays her part alone. In any case, she 
had at tliis solemn moment a part to play aUoi^cthei 
ont of the eommon order of events. It is her that we 
mnst follow step hy step ; for she bore on that day 
during one honr all tlie huj'den of tlie Christian con- 
scienee; her witness decided the faith of the future. 
We nmst remember that the cave, wherein the body 
of Jesus was iiK^losed, had been recently hewn out of 
the rock, and that it was situated in a garden hard by 
the place of execution. For this latter reason o]\\y 
had it been selected, seeing that it was late in the day, 
and that they wei'e unwilling to violate the Sabbatli.^^ 
The first Gospel alone adds one circumstance, viz. 
that the cave was the pr(^perty of Joseph of Arimathea. 
But, in general, the anecdotical circumstances added 
hy the first Gospel to the common fund of tradition 
are without value, above all when it tieats of the last 
days of the life of Jesus.^^ The same Gospel mentions 
anoliier detail which, considei-ing the silence of the 
others, is destitute of [probability ; viz. the fact of the 
seals and of a guard detailed to the tomb.'*^ We must 
also I'ecollect that the moi-tnary vaults wei-e low cham- 
bers hewn in the side of a sloping rock, on which was 
contrived a vertical cutting. The door, usually down- 
wards, was closed by a very heav y si one, which fitted 
into a rabbet.^^ These chand)ers had no locks secured 
with keys; the weight of the stone was the sole safe- 
guard they possessed against robbei's and profaners of 
tombs ; thus were they arrange<l in such Ji numner 
that either mechanical power or the united effort of 
several persons was necessary to remove the stone. 
All the traditions are agreed on this point, that the 



THE APOSTLES. 



stone liad been placed at tlie orilice of the vault on 
tiie Fridav eveniui:^. 

But when Mary Magdahx arrived on the Sunday 
morning, tlie stone was not in its place. The vault w;js 
open. The body was no longer there. The idea of tiie 
resurrection was v/irh her, as yet, but little developed. 
That which occupied her soul was a tender regret, and 
the desire to pay funeral honors to the corpse of her 
divine friend. Her first feel in ors then were those of sur- 
prise and grief. The disappearance of this cherished 
corpse had taken away from her the last joy on which 
she had depended. Slie could never touch him again 
with her hands. And what was he become? . . . 
The idea of a profanation presented itself to her, and she 
revolted at it. Perhaps, at th.esame time, a ray of hope 
beamed across her mind. Without losing a moment, 
she runs to the house where Peter and John were re- 
united.^ 

They Iiave taken away the body of our Master,'' 
she said, " and we know not where they have laid him." 
The two disciples arise Inistily and I'un with all their 
might. John, the younger, arrives first. He stoops 
down to look into the interioi-. M:iry was right. The 
tomb was empty. The linen cloths whicli had served 
as his shroud were lyiug apart in the vault. In his turn 
Petei* arrives. The two enter, examine the linen cloths, 
110 doubt spotted with blood, and remark, in particular^ 
the napkin which had envelo])rd his head rolled by 
itself in one corner of the cave.-^ Peter and John re 
turned to their homes overwhelmed with grief. If they 
did not then [ji'onounce the decisive words, " He is 
risen I " we may affirm that such a consequence was 



60 



THE APOSTLES. 



their irrevocable conclusion, and that the creative dogma 
of Christianity was already propounded. 

Peter and John having departed from the garden, 
Mary remained alone at the edge of the cave. She 
wept copiously ; one sole thought preoccupied her 
inind : Where had they put the body ? 

Her woman's heart went no further from her desire 
to clasp again in her arms the beloved corpse. Suddenly 
she hears a light rustling behind her. There is a man 
standing. At first she believes it to be the gardener. 
"Oh!" she says, " if thou hast borne him hence, tell 
me where thou hast laid him, that I nmy take him 
aAvaj." For the only answer, she thinks that she hears 
herself called by her name, " Mary ! " It was the voice 
that had so often thrilled her before. It was the accent 
of Jesus. " Oh, my master ! " she cries. She is about to 
touch him. A sort of instinctive movement throws her 
at his feet to kiss them.^^ 

The light vision gives way and says to her, " Touch 
me not.'' Little by little the shadow disappears.^ 

But the miracle of love is accomplished. That which 
Cephas C(Uild not do, Mary has done ; she has been al)le 
to draw life, sweet and penetrating words from the 
empty tomb. There is now no more talk of inferences 
to be deduced, or of conjectures to be framed. Mary 
has seen and heard. The resurrection has its first direct 
witness. 

Frantic with love, intoxicated with joy, Mary returned 
to the city; and to the first disciples whom she met, 
she says, "I have seen Him, He has spoken to me."^^ 
Her greatly agitated mind, her broken and disconnected 
accents of speech, caused her to be taken by some per- 



THE APOSTLES, 



61 



sons for one demented.-^ Peter and .Jo]]]i, in tlitir tui'ii, 
relate what tliev had seen ; otlier disciples go to the 
tomh and see likewise.^ The fixed conviction of all 
this fii'st party was that Jesns had risen ap;ai!n ]\Ia:\v 
donbts still existed ; but the assnrance of Mary, of 
Peter, and of J(.)lin, imposed np'»n tlie others. At a 
latQv date, this was called ''the vision of Peter,*'^ 

Paul, in particular, does not speak of the vision of 
Mary, and attributes all the honor of the first apparition 
to Peter. But this expression is very indefinite. Peter 
only saw the empty cave, aiid the linen cloth and the 
napkin. Only Mary loved enough to pass the bounds 
of nature and revive the shade of the perfect master. 
In these kinds of marveilons crises, to see after the 
others is nothing; all the merit is in seeing for the first 
time, for the others afterwards model their visions on 
the received type. It is the peculiarity of fine organi- 
zations to conceive the image proinprly, justly, and 
with a sort of intimate sense of the end. The glory of 
the resurrection belongs, then, to Mary of Magdala. 
After Jesus, it is Mary who has done most for the 
foundation of Christianity. The shadow created by the 
delicate sensibility of Magdalene wanders still on the 
earth. Queen and patroness of idealists, Magdalene 
knew better than any (me how to assert her dream, and 
impose on every one tlie vision of her passionate soul. 
Tier great womanly afiirmation : He has risen," ha? 
been the basis of the faith of humanity. Away, impo- 
tent reason ! Apply no cold ainilysis to this chef- 
d'osavre of idealism and of love. If wisdom reluses to 
console this poor human race, betrayed by fate, let folly 
attempt the enterprise. TTliere is the sage who ha? 



62 



THE APOSTLES. 



given to tlie world as much joy as the possessed Mar} 
of Magdahi? 

The other women, meanwhile, who liad been to tlie 
tomb, spread abroad different reports.^^ Tliej had not 
seen Jesus;*' but thej told of a man clotlied in white, 
wliom they had seen in the cave, and who had said 
to them: "He is no h')nger here, return into Galilee: 
lie will go before you, there shall ye see Him." 

Perluips it was the white linen clothes which had 
given rise to this hallucination. Perhaps, again, they 
saw nothing at all, and only began to speak of their 
vision when Mary of M igdala had related hers. 
According to one of thij most authentic texts,^- indeed, 
tliey maintained silence for some time, and their silence 
was suhsequently artributed to terror. However that 
may be, these stories continued hourly to increase, as 
well as to undergo strange transformations. The man 
in white became an angel of God ; it was told liow 
that his clothing was glistetnng like the snow, and his 
figure like lightning. O hers spoke of two angels, of 
whom one appeared at the head and the other at the 
foot of the tomb."^^ In the evening, it is [)Ossible that 
many persons believed already that the vvomen had 
seen the angel descend fronj heaven, take awtiy the 
stone, and Jesus then shoot forth with a crasli.^' '^'^i-J 
themselves, no doul)t, varied in their nari'atives ; ^ snf- 
f(!i-ing from the effect of the imagination of orhers, as 
always happens to people of tlie lo\ver orders, they 
scrupled not to introduce all sor's of embelliLdiments, 
and wei'c thus participators in the crealinii of tlie legend 
vrhich took its rise amongst them and concerning them. 

The day was stormy and decisive. The little com- 



THE A POST Lies. 



63 



panv was sadly dispersed. Some of them liad alrea<ly 
departed for Galiiee, others hid tliemselves froin feai'.^^ 
Tlie deploral)le scene of the Friday, the heart-rending 
spectacle which they had before their eyes when they 
fiaw Him of whom they had hoped sucli great things 
expire upon the gibbet, without His Father having 
come to deliver him, had, moreover, shocked the faith 
of many. The news spread by the women and by 
Peter had !)een received by many of them with scarce 
dissembled incrednliry.^^ Tiie different stories contra- 
dicted one another; the women went hither and thi- 
tlier witii strange and conflicring stories, each surpass- 
ii]g the oihei-. The most opposite ideas were ])ro- 
pounded. Some of them still deplored the sad event 
of the previous evening ; others were already rejoicing: 
all were disposed to collect: the most extraordinary 
tales. Meanwhile the mistrust which the excitement 
of Mai*y of Magdala caused,"^ the want of authority on 
the part of the women, together with the incohei'ence 
of their several stories, prod need great doubts. Tiiey 
were on the w^atcli fur new visions, which could not 
fail to ap[)ear. The state of the sect was entirely 
favorable to the piv^pagat ion of strange rumors. If 
the entire little Church had been assembled, the legen- 
dary creation would have been impossible; those who 
knew the secret of the disa])pearance of the body 
would probably liave protested against the error. But iri 
the confusion wdiich prevailed amongst them, an oppoi'tu- 
iiity was afforded for the most fruitful misunderstandings. 

It is the characteristic of those states of mind in 
which ecstas}^ •du(] a])paritions are commoidy generated, 
to be contagious.^ The histoiy of all the great religi* 



64 



THF. APOSTLES. 



ous crises proves that these kinds of visions are catch 
ing; in an assembly of persons entertaining the same 
beliefs, it is enough for one member of the society to 
affirm that he sees or hears something supernatural, 
and the others will also see and hear it. Amongst the 
persecuted Protestants, a re|>ort was spread that angels 
had been heard chanting psalms in the ruins of a 
recently destroyed temple ; the whole company went 
to the place and hervd the same psalm. In cases of 
this kind, the most excited are those who make the law 
and who regulate the common atmospheric heat. The 
exaltation of individuals is transmitted to all the mem- 
bers ; no one will be behind or confess that he is less 
favored than the others. Those who see nothing are 
carried away by excitement, and come to imagine either 
that they are not so clear sighted as others, or tfuit they 
do not give a just account of their feelings; in every 
case they are careful not to avow their distrust : they 
would be disturbers of the common joy, they would be 
causino: sadness to the otliers, and would be themselves 
acting a disagreeable pai't. hen, then, an apparition 
is brought forward in such meetings as these, the usual 
result is, that all either see it or accept it. We must 
remember, moreo ver, what degree of intellectual cul- 
lare was possessed by the disciples of Jesus. What we 
ca 1 a weak head is well accompanied by perfect good- 
ness of heart. The disciples believed in phantoms;^* 
they imagined that they were surrounded by miracles; 
they took no part whatever in the positive science of 
the time. This science flourished amongst a few hun- 
dreds of men who were only to be found in the coun- 
tries to which the civilization of the Greeks had pene- 



THE APOSrLES. 



65 



trated. But the common people, in all countries, knew 
very little about it. In this respect Palestine was one 
of the most backward countries ; the Galileans were 
the most ignorant of the inhabitants of Palestine, and the 
disciples of Jesus might be counted amongst the num- 
ber of the most simple people of Galilee. It was to this 
very simplicity that they owed their heavenly election. 
Among such a people, belief in the marvellous dis- 
covered the most extraordinary channels of propaga- 
tion. The idea of the resurrection of Jesus being onc<3 
circulated, numerous visions would be the resuh. 
And so, indeed, it came to pass. 

Even during the course of that very Sunday, at a.i 
advanced period of the forenoon, when the stories of 
the woman had already been freely circulated, \ vvo 
disciples, one of whom was called Cleopatras or C.eo- 
pas, set out on a short journey to a village called l]\n- 
maus,*- situated a short distance from Jerusalem. ^'^ 
They were convei'sing together respecting the recent 
events, and were full of sadness. On the road an un- 
known companion j(jined them and inquired ili-^ cause 
of their deep grief: " Art thou, tlien, the only s^rangjr 
at Jerusalem," they said to liim, " that thou knowest not 
what things are conjo to pass there ? Ilast tl: )u not 
heard of Jesus of ^^azareth, which was a propliet 
mighty in deed and word before G(^d and all the peo- 
ple ? Knowest thou not how that the chief priests and 
rulers have condemned him to death and crucified 
him? We tj-usted that it had been he which sliould 
have redeemed Israel ; and besides all this, to-day is 
the third day since these things were done — yea, and 
certain women, also, of our company made us aston- 



66 



THE APOSTLES. 



islic'd who were early at the sepulchre ; and when they 
found not his body, they caine, saying that the} had 
also seen a vision of angels who said tliat he was {dive. 
And certain of them who were with us went to the 
sepulchre, and found it even so as the women had 
said ; but him they saw not." The stranger was a pious 
man, well versed in the Scriptures, quoting Moses and 
the prophets. These three good people became fast 
friends. As they came near to Emmaus, the stranger 
proposing to continue liis journej' tlirough the village, 
the disciples entreated him to tarry with them and par- 
take of tlieir evening meal. The day was fast drawing 
to a close ; the memories of the two disciples become mr>re 
vivid. This hour of the evening nieal was that which 
lliey remembered wiih the greatest pleasure and regret. 
How ofren had the)% at this vei-y hour, seen their be- 
loved Master forget the weighty duties of the day in tlie 
Cibandon of pleasant conversation, and, cheered by the 
rej)ast, speak to them of tlie fruit of the vine wdiich lie 
should di'ink anew with them in the kingdom of His 
Father. The gesture which lie made while breaking the 
bi-ead and offering it to theuj, according to the custom of 
the head of the house among the Jews, was deeply en- 
graven oJi their memory. Giving way to a sort of plea- 
surable sadness, they forget the stranger; it is Jesus 
whom they see holding the bread, and then breaking it 
and oliei'ino: it to them. These remem])i'ances took such 
a hold on them, that they scarcely perceived that their 
companion, anxious to continue his journey, had left 
them. And when they had recovered from their 
reverie : "Did we not perceive," they said, "sotnething 
strange? Do you not remember how our heart burned 



THE APOSTLES. 



67 



witllin us, wliile lie talked witli us by tlie way ? " And 
the prophecies which he cited proved clearly that Mes- 
siah must suffer before entering into his glory. Did 
you not recognise him at the breaking of the bread ? " 
*'Tes! up to that time our eyes were closed; they 
"were opened wlien he vanished." The conviction of 
the two disciples was that they had seen Jesus. They 
returned with all haste to Jerusalem. The principal 
group of the disciples were exactly at that time assem- 
bled around Peter.-'^ 

Xight had completely set in. Each one communi- 
cated his impressions and the news which he had heard. 
The general belief already willed that Jesus had arisen. 
On the entrance of the two disciples, they were imme- 
diately informed of what they called "the vision of 
Peter." ^ They, on their side, related what had hap- 
pened to them on the road to Em mans, and how they 
had recognised him by the breaking of bread. The 
imagination of all became vividly excited. The doors 
were closed, for they were afraid of the Jews. Orien- 
tal towns are hushed after sunset. The silence accord- 
ingly within the house was frequently profound; all 
the little noises which were accidentally made were 
interpreted in the sense of the universal expectation. 
Ordinarily, expectation is the father of its ol)ject.^ 
Daring a moment of silence, some slight breath passed 
over the face of the assembly. At these decisive 
periods of time, a current of air, a creaking window, or 
a chance murmur, are sufficient to fix the belief of ])eo- 
ples for ages. At the same time that the breath was 
perceived they fancied that they heard sounds. Some 
of them said that they had discerned the word sc/ia- 



68 



THE APOSTLES. 



Z<97??, " happiness" or " peace." This was the ordinary 
salutation of Jesus and the word by which lie significvl 
His presence. Xo possibility of doubt ; Jesus is present ; 
He is in the assembly. That is His cherished voice ; 
each one recognises it.^^ This idea way all the more 
easily entertained because Jesus had said that when- 
ever they were assembled in His name, He would be 
in the midst of them. It was, then, an acknowledged 
fact that Jesus had appeared before His avssend)led dis- 
ciples, on the night of Sunday. Some pretended to 
have observed on His hands and His feet the mark of 
the nails, and on His side the mark of the spear which 
pierced Him. According to a widely spread tradition, 
it was the same night as that on which He breathed 
upon His disciples the Holy Spirit.'*^ John xx. 22-23, 
who is echoed by Luke xxiv. 49, The idea, at least, 
that His breath had passed over tliem on their reassein- 
bling was generally admitted. Such were the inci- 
dents of the day which has decided the lot of the 
human race. The opinion that Jesus had arisen was 
thus irrevocably propounded. The sect which was 
tliouglit to have been extinguished by the death of the 
Master, was, from lienceforth, assured of a wondrous 
future. And yt't some doubts were still existing.^^ 
The Hpostle Thomas, who was not present at the meet- 
ing of Sundny evening, C':)ntessed that he envied those 
who had seen the mark of the spear and of the nails. 
We read that, eight days afterwards, he was satistied.'^ 
But a little stain, and as it were a mild reproach, have 
always rested upon him in consecpience. By an in- 
stinctive view of unerring accui-acy, man understands 
that the ideal is not to be touched with hands, and that 



THE APOSTLES. 



69 



tliere is no occasion for its submission to the control of 
experience. Noli me tangere is tiie motto of all grand 
affection. Tlie sense of touch leaves no room for faith ; 
the eye, a purer and more noble organ than the hand — 
even the eye which nothing soils, and by which no- 
thing is soiled, became very soon a superfluous witness. 
A- singular sensation began to appear; all hesitation 
was construed into a want of loyalty and love ; each 
was ashamed to be behindhand ; the desire to behold 
was interdicted. The dictum, Blessed are they who 
have not seen and yet have believed," became the 
word of salutation. It was thought to be more gene- 
rous to believe without proof. The true-hearted friends 
would rather not have had the vision.^- Just as, in 
later times, St. Louis refused to be a witness to an 
eucharistic miracle that he miglit not detract from 
the merit of faith. Henceforth this credulity became 
a terrible emulation, and, as it were, a sort of out-bid- 
ding one another. The reward consisting in believ- 
ing without having seen, faith at any price, gratuitous 
faith — faith approaching to madness — was exalted as if 
it were the chief gift of the soul. The credo quia 
absurdwn is established ; the law of Christian doj^mas 
will be an unwonted progression which no impossibility 
shall be able to arrest. The most cherished dogmas as 
regards piety, those to which it will attach itself with 
the most resolute frenzy, will be the most repugnant to 
reason, in consequence of that touching idea that the 
moral worth of faith increases in proportion to the dif- 
ficulty of believing, and because men are not called on 
to prove any love when they admit one which is evident. 
These first davs were like a period of intense fever, 



70 



THE APOSTLES. 



wlien the faithful, mutually inebriated, and itnposiug 
upon each other by their mutual conceits, passed theii 
days in C(»nstant excitement, and were lifted up with 
the most exalted notions. The visions multiplied with- 
out ceasing. Their evening assemblies were the usual 
j)c'i'iods for their production.^^ When the doors wero 
closed and all were Dossessed with their besettino^ idea, 
the first who fancied that he beard the sweet word 
scJialom^ " salutation," or " peace," gave the signal. All 
then listened, and very soon heard the same thing, 
'i'hen it was that there was great joy among these sim- 
pk^ souls when they knew that the Master was in the 
midst of them. Each one tasted of the sweetness of 
this thought, and believed himself to be favored with 
some inward colloquy. Other visions w^ere noised 
abroad of a different description, and recalled that of 
the travellers of Emnaaus. At meal-time they saw 
Jesus appear, take the bread, bless it and break it, and 
offer it to the one whom lie honored with a vision of 
Himself.'^* In a few days a complete cycle of stories, 
widely differing in thei'* details, but inspired by the same 
spirit of love and absolute faith, was formed and disse- 
minated. It is the greatest of errors to suppose that 
legendary lore requii-es much time to mature; some- 
times a legend is the j)roduct of a single day. The 
Sunday evening [16 of Nisan, 5 April] had not passed 
before the legend of Jesus was held as a reality. Eight 
days afterwards, the character of the resuscitated life 
which had been conceived for him, was stayed in its 
progress, at least as regards its essential characteristics. 



CHAPTER II, 



r>EJ'AEriIRE OF THE DISCIPLES FROM JERUSAI.Eil.- 'SECOND 
GALILEAN LIFE OF JESUS. 

The most earnest desire of those who have lost a clear 
friend is to revisit tlie places where they have lived 
with him. It was no doubt this feeling wliich, some 
days after the events of Easter, induced the disciples to 
return to Galilee. From the moment of the arrest of 
Jesus, and immediately afrer His death, it is probable 
that many of His disciples had already taken their 
departure for the northern provinces. At the period 
of the resurrecti()n, a report vvas spread that it was in 
Galilee tliat they would see hiin again. Some of the 
women who had been at the sepulchre returned with 
the statement that tiie aiigel had told them that Jesus 
had already preceded them into Galilee.^ Others said 
that it was Jesus himself who had told them to meet 
him there.^ Sometimes they even fancied that they 
remembered how that He had told them so in his life- 
time.^ It isj however, certain, that at the end of some 
days, perhaps after they had coitipleted the solemnities 
of the Paschal feast, the disciples believed that they had 
received a commandment to return to their own country, 
and they returned accordingly.^ Perhaps the visions 
began to diminish in frequency at Jerusalem. A sort 
of homesickness possessed them. Tlie short appari- 
tions of Jesus were not suthcient to compensate for tlie 



72 



THE APOSTLES. 



enoi-mous void left to tliein by His absence. They fan- 
cied that they were actuated by a melancholy affection 
for the lake and the beautiful mountains where they 
had tasted of the kingdom of God.^ The women, espe- 
cially, desired at all hazards to return to the country 
Vvdiere they had enjoyed so much happiness. It must 
be observed that the order for leaving Jerusalem came 
especially from them.^ This odious city weighed down 
their spirits ; they longed to revisit the country where 
they had possessed Him whom they so w^ell loved, 
assured aforehand in their own minds that they would 
need him there. The greater part of the disciples then 
departed full of joy and hope, perhaps in company with 
the caravan wdiich was conducting homewards the pil- 
grims who had attended, the Paschal feast. That which 
they hoped to find in Galilee was not only fleet- 
ing visions, but Jesus Himself to continue with them as 
He had done pi-evious to His death. An intense expec- 
tation filled their minds. Was He about to restore the 
kingdom of Israel, to found in definite foi'm the king- 
dom of God, and, as it has been said, reveal His jus- 
tice?"^ All this is possible. Already did they recall 
to their minds the smiling landscapes where they had 
been happy with Him. Many thought tluit He had 
told them that He would meet them on a mountain,^ 
probably that one to which so many sweet reniem 
braiices of Him were attached. J^ever certainly was any 
more cheerful journey undertaken. They were on the 
eve of realizing all their dreams of happiness. They 
were going to see Him again. 

And indeed they did see him. Hardly restored to 
their peaceable fantasies, they believed them.-elves to 



THE APOSTLES. 



be placed in the midst of the Gospel dispensation. It 
was about tlie end of the month of April. Tlie 
irronnd was covered with red anemones, which are 
probably the " flowers of the field," from which Jesus 
loved to draw his similes. At every step they recol- 
lected His words, attached, as it were, to the thousand 
evcmts of the way. See this tree, this fiower, this seed, 
trom which he took np his parable! here is the little 
hill on which he delivered his most touchincr discours- 
es ; here is the little ship in which he taught. It was 
all like a beautiful dream commenced anew, like an 
illusion which had vanished, and then reappeared. 
The enchantment seemed to spring up again. The 
sweet "kingdom of God" to be established in Gali- 
lee, took possession of tlieir hearts. This pellucid air, 
those mornings spent on the bank of the lake or on the 
mountain, those nights passed on the lake while guard- 
ing their nets,— all these returned to their minds in dis- 
tinct visions. They saw him in every place in which 
they had lived with him. Doubtless it v\^as not always 
the joy of possession. Sometimes the lake appeared to 
tliem to be very solitary. But a great love is contented 
with small matters. If all of us, while we are alive, 
coidd stealthily once a year calculate on a moment 
long enough to behold those loved ones whom we have 
lost, and to exchange but two words with them, death 
would be no more death. . 

Such was the state of mind of this faithful company 
in this short period wdien Christianity seemed to return 
for a mom.ent to its cradle to bid Him an eternal adieu. 
The principal disciples, Peter, Thomas, Natlianael, the 
sons (jf Zebedee, returned to the shore of the lake, and 

4 



74 



THE APOSTLES. 



henceforth took up their abode together;® they had taken 
np theh' former trade of fishers at Bethsaida. or at Ca- 
peinaiim. The women of Galilee were, doubtless, wilU 
them. More than the others, they had urged the retui a 
to Galilee ; for with them it was a matter of heartfelt 
I 've. This was their last act in the foundation of 
Christianity. From this moment we see no more of 
them. Faithful to their alfection, they would not quit 
the country where they had tasted of so great enjoy- 
ment.^*^ Soon they were f)rgotten, and as Galilean 
Christianity had scarcely any posterity, the remem- 
bi-ance of them was completely lost in certain ramifi- 
cations of the tradition. These touching demoniacs, 
these converted sinners, these real founders of Chris- 
tianity, Mary of Magdala, Mary Cleophas, Joanna, Su- 
sanna, all passed into the condition of forsaken saitits. 
St. Paul knows nothing about them.^^ The faith which 
they had created almost threw them into oblivion. We 
must come down to the middle ages before justice is ren- 
dered to them; and when one of them, Mary Magdalene, 
again assumes her lofty position in the Christian heaven. 

The visions on the lake shore appear to have been 
frequent enough. On these vei-y waters where they 
had touched God, how was it that the disciples had not 
again beheld their Divine friend ? The most simple 
circumstances restored Him to them. On one occasion 
they had toiled all the night without having taken a 
single fish ; all on a sudden the nets are fil'ed ; this 
was a miracle. It seemed to them that some one had 
told them from the shore, " Cast your nets to the right.'* 
Peter and John looked at each other : " It is the Lord," 
said John. Peter, who was naked, hastily covered 



THE APOSTLES. 



75 



himself with his tunic and jumped into the sea, tliat he 
might go and rejoin the invisible couiiselh)!*.^^ At 
other times, Jesus came to share their simple repasts. 
One day, when they luid done fisiiing, they were sur- 
prised to tind the coals lighted, with a fish upon the 
fire, and some bread beside it. A lively recollection 
of their feasts in times past took possession of their 
minds, for the bread and the lisli had always been 
essential characteristics of them. Jesus was in the 
habit of offering portions to them. They were per- 
suaded after their meal that Jesus was seated at their 
side, and liad presented them with thes3 victuals, which 
liad become already, in their view, eucluiristic and holy.^^ 
It was John and Peter, more than all the others, who 
had been favored with these intiuuite conversations with 
the well-beloved phantom. One day Peter, dreaming 
perhaps (But why do I say this? \V^as not their life ou 
these shores a pei-petaal dream?), tlioaglit that he heard 
Jesus ask him, " Lovest thou me?" Tiie question was 
thrice repeated. Peter, altogether under the influence of 
tender and sad feelings, imagined that he replied, "Oh! 
yea, Lord I Thou knowest that I love tliee ;" and on 
each occasion the apparition said, Feed my sheep."^^ On 
another occasion Peter conhded U) John a wondrous 
dream. lie had dreamt that he was walking- with the 
Master. John was coming up a few ste})s behind. Jesus 
spoke to him in very obscure language, which appeared 
to tell him of a prison or a violent death, and repeated 
.to him at different times, "Follow me." Then Peter, 
pointing to John, who was following, with his finger, 
asked, "Lord, and this man?" Jesus said, " If I wish 
that this man remain until I come, what is that to thee? 



76 



THE APOSTLES. 



Follow tliou me." After the martyrdom of Peter, John 
recollected this dream, and saw in it a prediction of the 
kind of death by which his friend suffered. He told it 
to his disciples; and they on their part fancied thai 
they had discovered an assurance that their master would 
not die before the final advent of Jesus.^^ These grand 
and melancholy dreams, these unceasing conversations 
interrupted and again commenced Vv^ith the beloved de- 
parted One, occupied the days and the months. The 
sympathy of Galilee in behalf of the prophet whom the 
Jerusalemites had put to death, was renewed. ^lore 
than five hundred persons were already devoted to 
the memory of Jesus. In the absence of the lost Mas- 
ter, they obeyed the chief of the disciples, and above 
all, Peter. One day, when following their spiritual 
chiefs, the Galileans had climbed up one of the moun- 
tains to which Jesus had often led them, and they fancied 
that they saw him again. The air on these mountain- 
tops is full of strange mirages. The same illusion wiiich 
had previously taken place in behalf of the more inti- 
mate of the disciples, was produced again.^^ The whole 
assembly imagined that they saw the Divine spectre dis- 
played in the clouds ; they all fell on their faces and 
worshipped. The feeling which the clear horizon of 
these mountains inspires is the idea of the immensity of 
the world and the desire of conquering it. On one of 
these neighboring points, Satan, pointing out with his 
hand to Jcsns the kingdoms of the earth, and' all the 
glory of them, it is said proposed to give them to him 
if he would fall down and worship him. On this occa- 
sion, it was Jesus who, from the top of these sacred 
summits, pointed out to his disciples the whole woi'ld, 



THE APOSTLES. 



77 



and assured them of the future. Thej^ came down froui 
the mountain persuaded that the Son of God liad eon:i- 
manded them to convert the whole human race, and 
had promised to be with them even to the end of the 
vvoi-ld. A strange ardor, a divine fi!"e, took possession 
of them when they returned from these conversations. 
They looked upon themselves as the missinnaries of the 
world, capable of effecting prodigious deeds. St. Paul 
saw many of those who were present at tliis exti'aordi- 
nary scene. At the expiration of twenty-five years, the 
impression on their minds was still as strong and as 
vivid as it was on the first day.^^ 

Nearly a year passed over during wliich they lived 
this charmed life, suspended, as it were, b(^Tween 
heaven and earth. The chai-m, far from diminishing, 
increased. It is the peculiarity of grand and holy en- 
terprises, that they always become grander and moi'e 
pure of themseh^es. The feeling towards a beloved 
one whom we have lost is always more intense than on 
the day following his death. The luora distant it is, 
the more i tense does this feeling become. The sorrow 
whi h at fir;t was part of it, and in a certain sense 
diminished it, is changed into a serene piety. The 
image of the departed oiie is transfigured, idealize'.l, and 
becomes the soul of life, the principle of every action, 
the source of every joy, the oracle wliich we consult, 
tlie cons(~)lation which we seek in times of despondency. 
Death is a necessary condition of every apotheosis. 
Jesus, so beloved during His life, was even more so 
after His last breath ; or rather His last breath became 
the commencement of His actual life in the bosom of 
His Church. He became the intimate friend, the con« 



78 



THE APOSTLES. 



fidaiit, the travelling companion, the one who, at tlic 
corner of the road, joins yon and follows jon, sits 
down to table with yon, and reveals Himself as lie 
vanishes out of your sight.^^ The absolute want of 
scientific exactitude in the minds of these new believ- 
ers, was the reason why no question was ever pro-' 
pounded as to the nature of Ilis existence. They re- 
J3resented Flim as impassible, endowed with a subtle 
body, passing through open windows, sometimes visi- 
ble, sometimes invisible, but always alive. Sometimes 
they thought that His hody was not a material body ; 
that it was a pure shadow or apparition.^^ At other 
times they accorded to Him a material bodj^ with flesh 
and bones ; w^irli an unaffected minuteness, and as if 
the hallucination had wished to be on its guard 
against itself, they represented Him as drinking and 
eating ; nay even as feeling.^^ Their ideas on this 
point were as vague and uncertain as the waves of the 
sea. 

With difficulty have we thus far dreamed, in order 
to propose a trifling question, but one which admits 
not of easy solution. Whilst Jesus rose again in this 
real manner, that is to say in the hearts of tliose who 
loved Him ; while the immovable conviction of the 
apostles was being formed and the faith of the world 
being prepared — in what place did the worms consume 
the lifeless corpse which, on the Satui-day evening, had 
been deposited in the sepulchre ? This detail will be 
always steadily ignored ; for, naturally, the Christian 
traditions can give us no information on the subject. 
It is the spirit wdiich quickeneth ; the flesh is nothing/* 
The resurrection was the triumph of the idea conceru* 



THE APOSTLES. 



79 



iiig its reality. The idea once entered upon irs initnor- 
talitj, what need of discussion about the body ? 

About the year 80 or 85, when the actual text of the 
first Gospel recei^'ed its last additions, the Jews had 
alreiidj formed a fixed opinion in regard to it.-^ Ac- 
cording to them, the disciples came hy night and stole 
away the body. The consciences of the Christians were 
alarmed at this report, and, in order to put an end to 
such an objection at once, they invented the circu in- 
stances of the guard of soldiers and the seal aftixed to 
the sepulchre.^^ This circumstance, related only in the 
first Gospel, and mixed up with legends of very doubt- 
ful authority,-'' is in no respect admissible.^^ But the ex- 
planation of the Jews, although unanswerable, is far 
from altogether satisfactory. We can scarcely admit 
that those who so bravely believed that Jesus had risen 
again, were the very ones who had carried off the body. 
However slight the accuracy with which these men re- 
flected, we can hardly imagine so strange an illusion. 
It must be remembered that the little Church was at 
this moment completely dispersed. There w^as no organ 
ization, no centi"alizatioii, and no open regularity of pro 
ceeding. The contradictor}^ stories which have reached 
us I'especting the incidents of the Sunday morning, 
prove that the reports were spread through different 
channels, and that there was no particular care on their 
part to liarmonize them. It is possible that the body 
was taken away by some of the disciples, and by them 
carried intoGalilee. The others, remaining at Jerusalem, 
Avould not have been coo:iiizanL of the fact. Ou the other 
liand, the disciples who carried the body into Galilee,^ 
could not have, as yet, become acquainted with the sto* 



80 



THE APOSTLES. 



ries wliicb were invented iit JeiHisaluni, so tliat the beiit f 
in tlie resurrection wonld have been propounded iu 
their absence, and would liave surprised theui accord 
ing]j. They could not have protested ; and liad they 
done so, nothing would have been disarranged. When 
a question of miracles is concerned, a tardy correction 
is not the way to a denial.^*^ Never did a material dith- 
cultj prevent the sentimental development and crea- 
tion of the desired tictions.^^ In the history of the recent 
miracle of Salette, the imposture has been clearly de- 
monstrated this does not damage the prosperity of the 
temple, nor the increase of belief in it. It is also per- 
missible to suppose that the disnppearance of the body 
was the work of the Jews. Perhaps they thought that 
in this way they would prevent the scenes of tumult 
which might be enacted over the corpse of a man so 
popular as Jesus. Perhaps they wished to prevent any 
noisy funeral ceremonies, or the eieciion of a monument 
to this just man. Lastly, who knows that the div^ap- 
pearance of the body was not effected by the proprietor 
of the garden or by the gardener ?^ This propriet(n-, as 
it would seem from such evidence as we possess,^ was 
a stranger to the sect. Tiiey chose his cave because it 
was the nearest to Golgotha, and because they were 
pi-essed for time.^ Perhaps he was dissatisfied with 
this mode of taking possession of his property, and caused 
the corpse to be removed. Of a truth, the details 
related by the fourth Gospel of the linen cloths left in 
the tomb, and of the napkin folded away carefully by 
itself in a corner,^^ scarcely agi-ee with such a hypo- 
thesis as this. This last circumstance would lead to 
the conclusion that a female hand had slipped in there.^'' 



THE Ar.XSTI.ES. 



81 



Tlie five stories of the visit of the 'vvomen to the toui'o 
are so confused and so emljaiTassed, that we may well 
be permitted to suppose that they conceal some mis- 
conception. The female conscience, vrlien under the 
influence of passionate love, is capable of the most 
extravagant illusions. Often is it the abettor of its own 
dreams. ^ To introduce these kinds of incidents regarded 
as miraculous, deliberately deceives no one ; but all the 
world, without thinking of it, is induced to connive at 
them. Mary of Magdala had been, according to the 
parlance of the age, ''possessed with seven devils.''^' 
In all this we must consider the want of precision of 
eastern women., from their absolute defect of education 
and the particularly slight knowledge of their sincerity. 
Tlie conviction of being exalted, renders any return 
to oneself impossible. When one sees the heaven 
everywhere, one is induced at times to put oneself in 
the place of heaven. 

Let us draw a veil over these mysteries. In the cir- 
cumstances of a religious crisis, everything being con- 
sidered as divine, the very grandest effects c;in be 
produced tVom the very meanest causes. It we were 
witnesses of the strange facts which lie at the bottom 
of all works of faith, we should see therein circum- 
stances which seem to us quite out of proportion to the 
importance of the results, and others at which we coidd 
but smile. Our old cathedrals are counted amongst 
the most beautiful things of the world ; one can scarcely 
enter them without beintr in some sort inebriated with 
the infinite. But these splendid marvels are almost 
always the blossoming of some little deceit. And 
what does it matter definitively? Tiie result alone 

4* 



82 



THE APOSTLES. 



Counts ill such a matter. Faitli purities all. The ma- 
terial incident which has produced the belief in the 
resurrection was not the veritable cause ot* the resurrec- 
tion. It was love that made Jesus rise again ; and this 
love was so powerful that a little risk was sufficient to 
build np the universal faith. If Jesus had been less 
loved, if the belief of the resurrection had had less 
reason for its establishment, tliese sorts of risks would 
have been incurred in vain ; nothing would have come 
of it. A grain of sand causes the fall of a mountain, 
when the moment for the fall of the mountain has ar- 
rived. The grandest results are produced altogether 
from causes very grand and very insignificant. The 
grand results alone are real ; the little ones only serve 
to hasten the production of an effect which has been a 
long time in a state of preparation. 



CHAPTER III. 



EETUEN OF THK APOSTLES TO JERUSALEM. — -END OF 'I'HE 
PERIOD OF APPARITIONS. 

The apparitions, in the meanwhile, as is usually the 
case in all movements of too credulous enthusiasm, 
began to diminish. Popular chimeras are nearly allied 
to contagious diseases ; quickly do they become stale 
and change their shape. The activity of these ardent 
souls was already turned in another direction. Tiiat 
which they believed they had heard from the lips 
of their beloved and resuscitated friend, was the com- 
mand to go bef )re him to preach and to convert the 
^vorld. But where shoidd they commence? Natu- 
i-alh^ at Jerusalem.^ The return to Jerusalem was 
accordingly resolved upon by those who at this time 
directed the mf)vements of the sect. As these journeys 
were ordinarily made in c iravanseries at the periods 
of the feasts, we niay suppose, with sufficient proba- 
bility, that the return of which we are treating, took 
place at the feast of Tabernacles at the end of the year 
thirt3'-three or at the Paschal feast of the year tlnrty- 
four. Galilee w^as, accordingly, abandoned by Chris- 
tianity, and abandoned for all time. The little church 
which remained there, doubtless, still existed ; but we 
inten<l to speak no more of it. It was probably 
crushed, like all the rest, by the frightful catastrophe 
which overwhelmed the country during the war of 



8i 



THE APOSTLES. 



Yespasian ; the residue of tlie dispersed society took 
refuge, from that time, in Jerusalem. After the war, 
it was not Christianity which was replanted in Galilee ; 
it was Judaism. In the second, third, and fourth cen- 
turies, Galilee was altogether a Jewish country, the 
centre of Judaism, the country of the Talmud.^ Thus 
Galilee was considered as of no account whatsoever in 
the history of Christianity ; but this was the sacred 
time of the church, pa?' excellence ; it conferred on the 
new religion its enduring qualities, its poetry, its pene- 
trating charms. ^^The Gospel^^ according to the theory 
of the synoptics, was a Galilean work. But we shall 
endeavor to show, further on, that " The Gospel^^ thus 
nndei'stood, has been the principal cause of the success 
of Christianity, and continues to be the surest guarantee 
of its future history. 

It is probable that a portion of the little school which 
surrounded Jesus during his last days had remained at 
Jerusalem at the time of their separation. The belief in 
the resurrection was alrea<ly established. This belief 
became accordingly developed from two points of view, 
each having a perceptibly different aspect, and such, 
doubtless, is the reason for the completely different vari- 
ations which are so remarkable in the stories of the ap- 
paritions. Tw^o traditions — one Galilean, the other Jeru- 
salemitish — were intended ; according to the form^<r, 
all the apparitions (except those of the earliest period) 
had occurred in Galilee ; according to the latter, they 
had all taken place at Jerusalem.^ The agreement of the 
tw^o portions of the little church respecting the funda- 
mental dogma, only served, as was natural, to confirm 
the common belief. They were united by the bonds 



THE APOSTLES. 



of tlie same faith; again and again tliey said, [Ic is 
risen ! " Perhaps the joy and enthusiasm wliich wure 
the consequence of this harraon)- produced for them 
certain otlier visions. It is at about this period that we 
can place the " vision of James" mentioned by St. PauL^ 
James was the brothei", or at least the kinsman, of Jesus. 
It is not clear that he accompanied Jesus during his 
last sojourn at Jerusalem, but he came there, probably, 
with the apostles, when they departed from Galilee. 
All the chief apostles had had their vision ; it was hard 
that this "brother of the Lord " should not also have 
had his. It would appear that this vision was eucha- 
ristic — that is to say, one in which Jesus appeared 
takinof and breakino; the bread. ^ Later, those mem- 
bers of the Christian family who attached themselves 
to James, and who are called the Hebrews, referred 
that vision to the very day of the resurrection, and pre- 
tended that it had been the first of all.^ 

It is, indeed, very remarkable that the family of Je- 
sus, certain members of which during his life had been 
unbelieving and opposed to his mission," sliould now have 
become members of the Cliurch and hold a position of 
eminence in it. We are compelled to suppose that the 
reconciliation took place during the sojourn of the apos- 
tles in Galilee. The renown with which the name 
of their kinsman had suddenly become invested — 
these five hundred pi^rsons who believed in him and 
were assured that they had seen him resuscitated — might 
have made an impression on their minds. ^ Since the 
definitive establishment of the apostles at Jerusalem, we 
see with them Mary, the mother of Jesus, and the breth- 
ren of J^sus.^ As far as Mary is concerned, it appears 



so 



THE APOSTLES. 



tliat John, in the belief that he was thus obeying a ro- 
commendation of his Master, had adopted her and taken 
her into his own house.^^ He perhaps took lier to Jeru- 
salem. Tliis woman, whose history and personjil cha- 
racteristics had been veiled in profound obscurity, be- 
came henceforth of great importance. The saying which 
the Evangelist puts into the mouth of some unknown 
woman : " Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the 
paps which thou hast sucked ! " began to be verified. It 
is probable that Mary did not survive her son many 
years.^^ 

In resp(^ct to the brothers of Jesus, the question is 
more obscure. Jesus had brothers and sisters.'- It 
seems probable, neverth(3less, tliat in the class of persons 
who were termed "brothers of the Lord," were compre- 
hended kinsmen of the sc^cond degree. It is only in 
connexion witli Jatnc^s tliat the inquiry possesses any 
conS'M|uence. Was tliis James the Just, or " brother of 
the Loi'd," whom we are ab(^ut to regard as playing a 
grand part during tlie first thirty years of Christianity — • 
was he James the son of Alphgeus, wlio appears to have 
been a cousin-german of Jl'sus, or was he a I'cal brother 
of Jesus? The data, in this respect, are altogether un- 
certain and contradictory. What we know of this James 
gives us an idea of a character so far removed from that 
of Jesus that one can hai dly beli* ve tliat two men so 
different could be born of the sarn ^ mother. If Jesus is 
tlie true foundt^r of Christianity, James was its most 
dangerijus enemy; he almost ruined it through his narrov/ 
mind. Later, it was certainly bjlieved that James the 
Just was a real brotlier of Jesus. But perhaps some 
Confusion has always suri'ounded this subject. Ilowevei 



THE APOSTLES. 



87 



that may be, henceforth tlie apostles only separated to 
undertake temporary journeys. Jerusalem became their 
centre/^ tbey seem to be afraid to disperse, and certain 
traits appear to manifest amongst them a determination 
to prevent a return into Galilee, which would have dis- 
solved their little society. They expected an express 
order from Jesus, forbidding them to quit Jerusalem, at 
least until the grand manifestation which awaited them.'^ 
The apparitions became more and more infrequent. 
Th(-y spoke of them far less often, and they began to 
think that they should no more see the Master until his 
solemn return in the clouds. Their imaohiations were 
forcibly impressed by a promise which they supposed 
that Jesus had made. During [lis lifetime, they said 
Jesus had frequently spoken of the Holy Spirit, con- 
ceived as a personification of divine wisdom.^'' He had 
promised Ilis disciples that this Spirit should be their 
strength in the battles which they would have to fight, 
their insijiration in clifhculti.s, their advocate if they 
were called upon to speak in public. When these vis- 
ions became j-are, they relied on this Spirit, viewed as a 
Comforter, as an(^ her self v, h( m Ji sr.s vrould doubtless 
send to his friends. Sometimes they fancied thtit Jesus, 
displaying himself suddenly in the midst of his assem- 
bled disciples, had breathed upon them from His own 
mouth a current of vivifying air.'' On other occasions, 
the disappearance of Jesus was regarded as the condition 
of the coming of the Spirit. Tiiey thought that in 
these apparitions he had promised the descent of this 
Spirit. Many set u|) an intimate connexion between 
this descent and the restoration of the kino"dom of Israel.'-^ 
A.11 the activity of imagination which the sect had dis- 



THE APOSTLES. 



played in the creation of the legend of Jesus resusci- 
tated, it nt)W began to iip})lj to the creation of a similar 
piuus belief respecting the descent of the Spirit and ilia 
marvellous gifts. 

It seems, meanwhile, that a grand apparition of Jesus 
had again taken place at Bethany, or on the Mount of 
Olives.-^ Certain traditions referred to that vision the 
final recommendations, the reiterated promise of the 
sending of the Holy Spirit, and the act by which He in- 
vested His disciples with power to remit sins.-^ The 
characteristic fea^tures of these apparitions be'came more 
and more vague; one was confounded with another, 
and the result w^as, that tl)(;v ceased to think ]nnch 
about them.^^ It was a r(>ceivv <1 lac that Jesus wasaHve, 
tliat he had manifested himself l)y a numJjer of appari- 
tions sufficient to prove His existence, and that he would 
continue still to manifest Himself in partial visions, until 
the grand final revelation w^hen everything would be 
consumed.^' Thus St. Paul represents the vision which 
he saw on the route from Damavscus as being of the same 
order as those which have been related.^' At any rate, 
it was admitted that in an ideal sense the Master was 
with his disciples and would be with them even to the 
end.^^ In the early days, tlie apparitions were very 
frequent; Jesus was imagined as dwelling upon the 
earth constantly, and more or less fulfilling the functions 
of an earthly life. When the visions became rare, they 
inclined to another conception, representing Jesus as 
having entered into His glory and seated at the right 
hand of His Father. 

" He is ascended into heaven," they said. 

This saying, though depending for the most part upon 



THE APOSTLES. 



89 



the state of vague idea in which tliey iiidnlged, or on a pro- 
cess of mductioD,-' was by many converted into a material 
scene. It was desirable that at the close of the last vision 
which was common to all the apostles, and when he deliv- 
ered to them His last commands, Jesas should be taken np 
into heaven.^^ Afterwards, the scene was developed, 
and became a complete legend. They related that men 
of heavenly appearance, surrounded by the most appal- 
ling brilliancy, appeared at the moment when a cloud 
surrounded Him, and consoled His disciples by the assur- 
ance of His return in the clouds precisely similar to the 
scene v/hich they had just witnessed. The death of 
Moses had, been invested by the popular ideas with cir- 
cumstances of the same sort.^^ Perhaps also they 
bethought them of the ascension of Elijah."' A tradi- 
tion^^ placed the locality of this scene near Bethany, ou 
the summit of the Mount or" Olives, a neig'ib orho xl al- 
ways very dear to the disciples, doubtless because Jesus 
had dwelt there. 

The legend relates that the disciples, after this marvellous 
scene, returned to Jerusalem " with joy.''-^ For our own 
part, it is with sorrow that we say a last f irewell to Jesus. 
To find Him again still living his shadowy life, has been 
to us a great consolation. This second life of Jesus, a 
pale image of the first, is yet full of charms f)r us. 
Now all trace of Him is lost. Exalted on His cloud at 
the right hand (jf His Father, He leaves us with men ; 
and, heavens ! how great is the fall ! The reign of poetry 
is ])ast; Mary of Magdala retired to her hamlet-home, 
has there buried her recollections of him. In conse- 
quence of this never-ending injustice which permits man 
to appropriate to himself alone the work in which woman 



90 



THE APOSTLES. 



Las taken an equal share, Cephas eclipses her and sends 
lier to oblivion. ISTo more sernKjns on the Mount; 
no more of the possessed ones cured ; no more cour- 
tezans convinced of sin ; no more of those wonderful 
fellow-laborers in the work of Redemption, v/hom Jesus 
had not repulsed. God truly has disappeared. The his- 
tory of the Church will henceforth be oftener the history 
of treacheries than subservient to the idea of Jesus. But, 
such as it is, this history is still a hymn to his glory. 
The words and the image of the illustrious JS'azarene 
will stand out in the midst of infinite miseries, as a sub- 
lime ideal — we shall the better understand how grand He 
was, when we shall see how paltry were Ills disciples. 



CHAPTER lY. 



DESCENT OF THE HOLT SPIRIT ; ECSTATICAL AND PPwOPHETIOAL 
PIIEXOMEXA. 

Mean, narrow, ignorant, inexperienced tliey were, as 
much as was possible for tlieni to be. Tiieir simplicity 
of mind was extreme; their credulity had no bounds. 
But they had one quality ; they lov^ed their Master to 
madness. The remembrance of Jesus, the only moving 
power of their life, had possessed them constantly and 
entirely ; and it was clear that they existed only on 
account of Him who, during two or three years, had so 
completely attached and seduced them to Himself. The 
safety of minds of a secondary class, who are unable 
to love God directly — that is, to discover the truth, create 
the beautiful, and do what is right of themselves — is the 
loving of some one in whom there shines forth a reflec- 
tion of the true, the beautiful, and the good. The 
majority of mankind require a graduated worship. 
The multitude of worshippers pant fur a mediator 
between themselves and God. 

When an individual has succeeded in gathering 
around his person, by a highly elevated moral tie, a 
number of other individuals, and then dies, it invariably 
happens that the survivors, who were perhaps up to 
that time often divided amongst themselves by rivahies 
and differences of opinion, become bound together by 
a mutual and fast friendship. A thousand cherished 
hnages of the past, which they regret, form a common 



92 



THE APOSTLES. 



^.reasiire to lliein. One way of loving a dead pei'sori is 
to love those with whom we have known liini to asso- 
ciate. We court their society that we may recall to 
our minds the times which are no more. A profound 
sayiiig of Jesus^ is then discovered to be true to tlie 
letter: *'The dead one is present in the midst of those 
who arc united'again by his memory." 

The affection wliicli the disciples entertained f )r each 
other during the lifetime of Jesus, was tlius increased 
tenfold after his death. Tliey fornied a little society, 
very retired, and they lived exclusively within them- 
selves. The number of them at Jerusalem was one 
hundred and twenty.^ Their piety was active, and as 
yet, completely restrained by the forms of Jewisli i-eli- 
gionism. The temple was their chief place of worship.^ 
Ko doubt, they labored for their living; but numual 
labor occupied but asmall place in the Jewish economy. 
Evei-y Jew had a trade, and this ti'ade implied no 
lack of learning or of gentle breeding. With us in 
our day, our material needs ai'e so difficult to satisfy? 
that a man who lives by manual labor is obliged lo 
work twelve or fifteen hours a day ; the man of leisure 
alone can apply himself to intellectual pursuits; the 
ac(piisition of learning is a rare and expensvie matter. 
But in these old societies, of which the East of our 
own day furnishes some idea: in those climates whei'C 
nature is so lavish for man's wants, and exacts so little 
in return — the life of a laborer left plenty of leisure. 
'A sort of method of common insti-uction i-endered 
every man well up in the prevailing ideas. Food and 
i-aiment sufficed ;^ a few hours of moderate labor wei-e 
enough to provide them. The remaining portion of 



THE APOSTLES. 



93 



tlie time was devoted to day-dreaming and to tlie 
indulgence of passionate love. The latter had, in the 
minds of these people, attained to a degree altogethej' 
inconceivable by us. The Jews of that period^ appeal 
to lis as if possessed, each one obeying like a blind 
machine the idea which had taken possession of him. 

The prevailing idea in the Christian coinmnnity at 
the time of which we are treating, and when the appa- 
ritif^ns had ceased, was the coming of the Holy Spirit. 
They expected to receive Him under the form of a mys- 
terious breath, which passed over the assembly. Many 
pretended that this was the breath of Jesus Himself. 
Every inward consolation, every courageous movement, 
every outburst of enthusiasm, every feeling of lively 
and pleasant gaiet}^, which they experienced without 
knowing its origin, was the work of the Spirit. These 
worthy consciences referred, as ever, to an outward 
cause the exquisite feelings wliich were springing up 
in them. It was especially in their assemblies that 
these varied phenomena of illumination were pro- 
duced. When they were all assembled together and 
were awaiting in silence the heavenly inspiration, 
whatever murmur or noise arose was thought to be the 
coming of the Spirit. In the early times, it was the 
apparitions of Jesus which were thus produced. JN^ow, 
there was a change in the course of their ideas. It 
was the Divine breath which was breathed over 
the little church and filled it with heavenly emana- 
tions. These beliefs wei'e strengthened by notions 
drawn from the Old Testament. The Spirit of prophecy 
is represented in the Hebrew books as a breathing 
which penetrates and lifts up the subject of it. In the 



94 



THE APOSTLES. 



beautiful vision of Elijali," God passes by iiiuler tbe 
form of a light wind, which produces a geiith^ rustling 
sound. Tliis ancient imagery had handed down to later 
epochs systems of belief very simihir to those of the 
s})ii'itualists of our own time. In the Ascension of 
Isaiali^ the coming of the Spirit is accomplished by a 
certain crashing at the doors ^ Later on, they always 
regarded this coming in the light of another baptism — • 
that is to say, the "baptism of the Spiiit," far snperior 
to that of John.^*' Tlie halhicinations of bodily touch 
being vei-y frequent amongst persons so nervous and 
so excited as they were, the least current of air, ac- 
companied by a shuddering in the midst of the silence, 
was considered as the passage of the Spirit. One 
thought that he felt it; very soon all perceived it 
and the enthusiasm was communicated from neighbor 
to neighbor. The correspondence of these phenomena 
with those which are found to exist amongst the 
visionaries of every age is easily demonstrated. Tney 
are produced daily, partly under the influence of the 
reading the book of the Acts of the Apostles, in the 
English and Ainei'ican sects of Quakers, Jum])ers, 
Shakers, Irvingites amongst the Mormons,^^ and in 
the camp meetings and revivals of America we have 
seen them reproduced amongst ourselves in the sect 
called the S])iritualists. But an immense difference 
should be observed between aberrations, without 
capacity or future results, and the illusions which have 
accompanied the establishment of a new code of reli- 
gion for the human race. 

Amongst all these " descents of the Spirii," which 
appear to have been by no means infrequent, tiiere waa 



THE APOSTLES, 



95 



one wliicli left a deep impression on the nascent 
Church. One clay when thcj were assembled toge- 
tlier a thunder-storm arose. A violent wind bui'sr tlie 
windows open — the sky seemed on fire. Thunder- 
storms in those countries are accompanied by wonder- 
i'ul illuminations ; the atmosphere is furrowed, as it 
wi're, on every side with garbes of flame. Whether the 
electric fluid had penetrated into the very chamber 
itself, or whether a dazzlino; flash of lii^htnin^ had sud- 
denly illuminated all their faces, tliey were convinced 
that the Spirit luul entered, and that he was poured 
out upon the head of each one of them iindei" the form 
of tongues of Are.*® It was a prevalent opinion in the 
theurgic schools of Syria that the communication of 
the Spirit was produced by a divine fire, and under the 
form of a mysterious glimmering." It was believed to 
have been ])resent at the display of all the wonders of 
Mount Sinai,^^ at a manifestation analogous to those 
of former times. The baptism of the Spirit hence be- 
came also a baptism of fire. The baptism of the Spii'it 
and of fire was opposed to and greatly preferred to that 
of water, the oidy form with which John had been ac- 
quainted.^^ The baptism of fire was only produced on 
rare occasions ; only the apostles and the disciples of the 
first guest-chamber were supposed to have received it. 
But the idea that the Spirit was poured forth upon them 
under the form of strokes of flame resembling burning 
tongues originated a series of singular ideas, which took 
firm hold of the imaginations of the period. 

The tongue of an inspired man was supposed to have 
received a sort of sacrament. It was pretended that 
many prophets before their mission had been stammer- 



96 



THE APOSTLES. 



ers tlmt tlie angel of God had |)assod a coal over tlioii 
lips, wliich piiritied tlieiii and conferred on them t]ie 
gift of eloqnence.^^ In his prophetic utterances the 
man was supposed not to speak at all about himself.^ 
His tongue was k:»oked upon merely as the organ of the 
Divinity who inspired it. These tongues of fire ap- 
peared a very striking symbol. The disciples were 
convinced that God desired to make it known that on 
the apostles also he had conferred his most precious 
gifts of eloquence and inspiration. But they did not 
stop there ; Jei'usalem was, like most of the great cities 
of the East, a city wliere many languages were spoken. 
The diversity of tongues was one of the ditliculties 
which they there discovered in the way of the propa- 
gation of a universal form of faith. Besides, one of the 
things which most alarmed the apostles at their very 
entry on a ministry destined to embi'ace the world, was 
the number of languages which weres})oken in it ; they 
were constantly inquiring how they could learn so many 
dialects. ''The gift of tongues" became thenceforth a 
marvellous privilege. They believed that the preach- 
ing of the gospel would relieve them from the obstacle 
which the difference of idioms had raised. They pre- 
tended that, under certain solemn cii-cumstances, those 
present had heard, each in his own language, the gosi)el 
pi'eached by the apostles ; in other words, that the 
apostolic promise was delivered to each one of the 
hearers. At other times, this conception w^as enter- 
tained in a somewhat different shape. They ascribed 
to the apostles the gift of acquiring, by divine illumi- 
nation, every language spoken, and of Sjpeaking those 
languages at will. 



THE APOSTLES. 



97 



There was in this a liberal conception ; they wished 
it should have no language peculiar to itself, that it 
should be capable of translation into every language, 
and that the translation should be of the same standard 
value as the original. Such was not the opinion of 
orthodox Judaism. The Hebrew was "the holy lan- 
guage" to the Jew of Jerusalem, and no version could be 
compared to it. Translations of the Bible were in little 
esteem ; so long as the Hel)rew text was scrupulously 
guarded in the translations, changes and moditications 
of expression were tolerated. The Jews of Egypt and 
Hellenists of Palestine, indeed, practised a more tole- 
rant system, and habitually perused the Greek trans- 
lations of the Bible. But the first plan of the Chris- 
tians Avas even broader; according to their idea, the 
word of God has no language peculiar to it ; it is fi'ee, 
unfettered by any idiomatic peculiaiity ; it is delivered 
-to all spontaneously and without interpretation. The 
facility with which Christianity became detached from 
tlie Semitic dialect which Jesus had spoken, the liberty 
which it at iirst accorded to every nation of forming its 
own liturgy, and its own versions of the Bible in the 
vernacular, favored this sort of emancipation of lan- 
guages. It was generally adiuitted that the Messiah 
would gatlier into one, all languages as well as all 
peoples.^^ Common usage and the promiscuousness of 
the languages was the first grand step towards this 
grand era of universal pacification. 

Moreover, the gift of languages very soon underwent 
a considerable variation, and resulted in very extraor- 
dinary effects. Ecstasy and pi-opliecy were the fruits 
of mental excitement. At these moments of ecstasy, the 



98 



THE APOSTLES. 



faithful, possessed by the Spirit, uttered inarticulate and 
incoherent sounds, which were mistaken for the woid^ 
of a foreign language, and which they innocently at- 
tempted to interpret.^^ At other times they supposed 
that the ecstatically possessed was giving utterance to 
new and hitherto uuknown languages,^^ which were not 
even the languages of the angels.^^ , 
These extravagant scenes, which were the fruitful 
cause of abuse, only became habitual at a later period 
but it is probable that they were produced fi'om the 
earliest years of Christianity. The visions of the an- 
cient prophets had often been accompanied by pheno- 
mena of nervous excitement.^^ The dithyrambic state 
amongst the Greeks abounded in occnrrences of the 
same kind ; the Pythia seeuied to give a preferenc-e to 
the use of foreign or obsolete words, which were called, 
as also in the apostolic })henomena, glosses.^^ Many 
of the pass-words of primitive Christianity, which are 
precisely bi-linguistic, or formed by anagrams, such as 
Ahha, Faiher^ and Anathema Maranatha^ took their 
origin perhaps from these fantastic paroxysms, inter- 
mingled with sighs'^'* from stifled gradus, from ejacula- 
tions, prayers, and sudden transports which were inter- 
preted as prophecies. It was like some vague har- 
mony of the soul, thrilling in indistinct sounds, and 
which the hearers of it desired to transform into deter- 
mined shapes and w^ords,^ or rather like spiritual 
prayers addressed to God in a language understood by 
God alone, and which God knows how to interpret.^' 
The individual in a state of ecstasy understood, 
in fact, nothing of what he uttered, and had no cogni- 
zance of it whatever.^' His eager listeners ascribed 



THE APOSTLES. 



99 



to his incoherent syllables the thonghts which nccarred 
to them at the time. Each one referred to his own dia- 
lect, and artlessly- strove to explain the nnintelligible 
sounds bj what little knowledge of languages he pos- 
sessed. They were always more or less successful, 
because the auditor inter[)olated within these broken 
accents the thonghts of his own breast. The history 
of fanatical sects is rich in facts of this description. 
The preachers of Cevennes displayed many instances 
of " glossology, "^^ but the most remarkable fact is that 
of the 'M-eaders" of Sweden,^^ about the years lS-11- 
IStlS. Involuntary enunciations, devoid of sense in the 
minds of those who uttered them, and accompanied by 
convulsions and fainting-lits, were for a long time daily 
practised by the members of this little sect. This phe- 
nomenon became quite contagions, and a considerable 
popular movement became blended with it. Amongst 
the Irvingites, the phenomenon of tongues is produced 
with features which reproduce, in the most remarkable 
manner, the most striking of the stories of the " Acts 
and of St. Paul.^*^ Our own age has witnessed fantastic 
scenes of the same nature, vv'hich need not to be 
recounted here ; for it is always unjust to compare 
the credulity of a grand religious movement with 
the credulity which is caused only by dulness of intel- 
lect. 

Now and then these strange phenomena were produced 
outside. The extatics, at the very moment when under 
the influence of their extravagant fantasies, had the hardi- 
hood to go out and display themselves to the crowd.. 
They were taken for persons who were intoxicated.^^ 
However sober minded in point of mysticism. Jesus had 



100 



THE APOSTLES. 



more than once presented in his own person the ordina 
ry phenomena of the extatic state. The disciples, dur- 
ing three or four years, were possessed with these ideas. 
The prophesy ings were frequent, and were regarded as 
a gift analogous to that of tongues.^^ Prayer, mingled 
with convulsions, with harmonized modulations, with mys- 
tic sighs, with lyrical enthusiasm, with songs of thanks- 
giving,** was a daily exercise among them. A rich 
vein of "canticles," of "Psalms," and of "Hynms," co 
pied from those of the Old Testament was thas disco- 
vered to be open to them.*^ Sometim.es the hps and the 
heart were in mutual accord ; sometimes the spirit sang 
alone, accompanied by grace in the inner man.*^ Any 
language which did not afford the new sensatiijns which 
were being produced, they suffered to become an indis- 
tinct stammering, at once sublime and puerile; or that 
which they could denominate "ilie Christian language"^ 
was wafted aloud in an embryo state. Christianity, not 
finding in the ancient tongues a weapon appi'opriate to its 
needs, has destroyed them. But whilst the new religion 
was forming for itself an idiom. of its own, ages of obscure 
efforts, and so to speak, of squalling, intervened. What 
is the characteristic of the style of St. Paul and, in 
general, that of the writers of the New Testament, but 
the stifled, panting, niisshapen' improvisation of the 
"Glossology?" Language failed them. Like the pro- 
phets, they began with the a, a, a of the infant.*^ They 
knew not how to speak. Tlie Greek and the Semitic 
tongues equally betrayed them. Tims arose that fright- 
ful violence which the new Christianity inflicted upon 
language. They would call it a stammering of the 
mouth, by which the sounds are stifled and confused, 



THE APOSTLES. 



101 



and wind op with a pantomime confused indeed, but 
nevertheless wonderfully expressive. 

All this was very iar from the intention of Jesus ; 
but to those whose minds were imbued with a belief in 
the supernatural, these phenomena were of the utmost 
importance. The gift of tongues, in particular, was con- . 
sidered as an essential sign of the new religion, and, as 
it were, a proof of its verity .^^ In every case it resulted in 
great fruits of edification. Many pagans were in this 
manner con verted. '^^ 

Up to the third century, the " Glossology manifested 
itself in a manner analogous to that which St. Paul de- 
scribes, Tiud was considered in the light of a permanent 
miracle.^'^ Some of the sublimest words of Christianity 
have originated in these incoherent sigliings. Tiie geiieral 
effect was touching and penetrating. This fashion of 
joining together their inspirations and delivei'ing them 
over to the comnmnit}^ for interpretation was enough 
to establish amongst the faitliful a profound bond of con- 
fraternit}^ Like all mystics, the new sectaries led lives 
of fisting and austerit}'.^^ Like the majority of Orientals, 
they ate little, which fact contributed to maintain tlieir 
excited state. The sobriety of the Syrian, caused 
by physical weaknc^ss, kept him in a constant state of 
fever and nervous susceptibility. Such great und pro- 
tracted intellectual efforts as ours are impossible under 
such a regimen ; but this cerebral and muscular debili- 
ty is productive, without apparent cause, of lively alter- 
nations of sadness and joy, which bring the soul into 
contiimal communion with God. Thus that which they 
called " godly sorrow passed for a heavenly gift. 
Ail the teachings of the Fathers respecting the spiritual 



102 



THE APOSTLES. 



life, such as John Chinaticus, as Basil, as Nilus, as Ar- 
senius — all the secrets of the grand art of the inward life, 
one of the most glorious creations of Christianity — were 
germinating in that strange state of mind which pos- 
sessed, in their months of extatic watchfulness, those il 
lustrious ancestors of all "the men of longings." Their' 
moral state was strange ; they lived in the supernatural. 
They acted only on the authority of visions; dreams and 
the most insignificant circumstances appeared to them to 
be admonitions fi'om Heaven. Under the name of 
gifts of the Holy Spirit were concealed also the rarest 
and most exquisite emanations of the soul — love, piety, 
respectful fear, objectless sighings, sudden languor, and 
spontaneous tenderness. All the good that is engen- 
dered in man, without man having any part in it, was 
attributed to a breathing from on high. Tears were 
often taken for a celestial fivor. This charming gil't, 
the privilege only of very good and pure souls, was re- 
peated with an infinity of sweetness. We know what 
influence delicate natures — al)ove all, women — exercise in 
the ability to shed copious tears. It is their style of 
praying, and assuredly it is the most lioly of prayers. 
We nmst come down quite to the Middle Ages, to 
that piety watered with tears of St. Bruno, St. Ber- 
nard, and St. Francis of Assisi, in order to discover 
again the chaste melancholy of those early days, when 
the}^ verily sowed in tears that they might reap with joy. 
To weep became an act of piety; those wlio could not 
preach, who were ignorant of languages, and unable to 
work miracles, wept. Praying, preaching, admonisiiing 
they wept it was the advent of the kingdom of tears. 
One might have said that their souls were dissolved, and 



THE APOSTLES. 



103 



tliat tbej desired, in the absence of a language wliicb 
could interpret their sentiments, to display themselves ta 
the world by a lively and brief expression of their entire 
inner being. 



CHAPTEE Y. 



HR8T CBCTRCH OF JERUSALEM ; ITS CHARACTER CENOBITrCAL. 

The cnstom of living in a community professing one 
identical faith, and indulging in ore and the same 
expectation, necessarily produced many habits com- 
mon to all the society. Yery soon rules were enacted, 
and established a certain analogy between this primi- 
tive church and the cenobitical establishments wirb 
which Clij'istianity became acquainted at a later period. 
Many of the precepts of Jesus conduced to this ; the 
true ideal of tbe gospel life is a monastery — not a mo- 
nastery closed in with iron gratings, a prison of the 
type of the Middle Ages, w^ith the separation of the two 
sexes, but an asylum in the mi;lst of the world, a phice 
set apart for the spiritual life, a free association or little 
confraternity, tracing around it a i-ainpart which may 
serve to dispel cares that are hurtful to the kingdom 
of God. All, then, lived in common, having only one 
heart and one mind.^ No one possessed aught which 
individually belonged to him. On becoming disciples 
of Jesus, they sold their goods and presented to the 
society the price of them. The chiefs of the society 
then distributed tiie common possessions according to 
the needs of each member. They dwelt in one neigh- 
borhood only.2 Tiiey took their meals together, and 
continued to attach to them the mystic sense which 
Jesus had ordered.-'^ Many hours of the day they spent 



THE ArOSTLES. 



1U5 



ill prayer. Tliese prayers were ssvinetiines iiii|)rov^ised 
in a loud voice; oftener they were siieiil. iiieditariuiis. 
Tlieir states of ecstasy were frequent, and each one 
believed hiniselt' to be incessantly favored with tha 
Divine inspiration. Their harmony was perfect ; no 
quarrelling about dogmas, no dispute respecting prece- 
dence. The tender recollection of Jesus prevented all 
dissensions. A lively and deeply rooted joy pervaded 
their hearts.^ Tiieir morals were austere, but marked 
by a sweet and tender sympathy. They assembled in 
houses to pray and abandon themselves to ecstatic 
exercises.^ The remembrance of those two or three 
years rested upon them like that of a terrestrial para- 
dise, which . Christianity would hencef )rth pursue in 
all its dreams, and to wiiich it wouhl endeavor to 
return in vain. Who, indeed, dojs not see that such 
an organization could only be applicable to a very 
little church? But, later on, the monastic life will 
resume on its own account this ])rimitive ideal, which 
the church universal will hardly dream of realizino:. 

That the author of the " to whom we owe the 

picture of this first Christianity at Jerusalem, has some- 
what overcolored it, and in particular has exaggerated 
the community of goods which {prevailed thei'e, is quite 
possible. The autlior of the Acfs'^ is the same as the 
author of the third Gospel, who, in his life of Jesus, is 
accustomed to shape his facts according to his own theo- 
ries,^ and with whom a tendency to the doctrine of 
" ^'ehionism'^"' — that is to sa}^, of absolute poverty — is very 
perceptible. IS'evertheless, the story of the "^ds" can- 
not be entirely without foundation. Although even 
Jesus would not have given utterance to any of those 



106 



THE APOSTLES. 



coininunistic axioms which wc read of in the third Gos 
pel, certain it is that a renunciation of the goods of tiiis 
worhl and a giving of ahns, carried so far as even the 
despoiHng of self, was entirely conformable to the spirit 
of his preaching. Tbe belief that the world is coming to 
an end has al ways been C(jndacive to a cenobitical life and 
to a distaste for the things of this world.^ The story of 
the Acts " is, in other respects, perfectly conformable to 
what we know of the origin of other ascetic religions — 
of Buddhism, for example. These sorts of religion in- 
variably commence with the cenobitical life. Their first 
adepts are a species of mendicant monks. The laity are 
only intro(iuced into them at a more advanced period, and 
when these religions have conquered entire societies, or 
the mrmastic life could onlj^ exist under exceptional cir- 
cumstances.^ We admit, tlien, in the Church of Jerusalem 
a period of cenobitical life. Two centuries later, Chris- 
tianity produced still on the pagans the effect of a com- 
mu li.stic sect.^^ We must remember that the Essenians 
or Tliereapeutians had ali'eady |)roduced the model of this 
description of life, which s[)rang very legitimately from 
M()S;iism. The Mosaic code being essentially moral, and 
not political, naturally produced a social Utopia ; church, 
synagogue, and convent — not a civil regime, nation, or 
city. Egypt had had, for many centuries, recluses both 
male and female supported by the Stnte, probably in 
fulfilment of charitable bequests, near the Serapeum of 
Memphis. Above all, it must be remembered that 
such a life in the East is by no means such as it has been 
in our West. In the East, one can abundantly enjoy 
nature and life without possessing anything. Man, in 
those countries, is always free because he has few cares; 



THE APOSTLES. 



107 



the slaveiy of labor is there unknown. We willingly 
suppose that the comniunisni of the primitive Cruirch 
was neither so rigorous nor so universal as the author of 
the "u.lc/.s "•would lead us to believe. What is certain 
about it is, that it had a large coinmunitj^ of poor peo|,)le 
at Jerusalem, goveiaied by the apostles, and to whom 
donations from all the places where Christianity existed 
were sent.^^ This community was, doubtless, compelled 
to establish rules of a sufficiently rigorous nature, and 
some years later it became necessary to keep it in due 
order, even to employ terror. Frightful legends werecir- 
ci.ilated, according to which, the simple fact of having 
retained anything besides that wliich hai been presented 
to the community, was treated as a capital crime and 
punished with deatli.^-^ 

The porticos of the temple, especially Solomon's 
porch, which com nand-jd the valley of Cedron, was the 
place where the disciples usually assembled in the day- 
time.^' There they recalled the remembrance of those 
hours which Jesus had ])assed in the same spot. In the 
midst of the immense activity whicli existed all about the 
temple, they would be little remarked. The galleries 
which formed [)art of this building were the seat of nu- 
merous schools and sect-, and the arena of many a dis- 
pute. The faithful of JeSus w^uld no doubt be taken 
for devotees of great precision of manner ; for they scru- 
])ulously observed all the Jewish customs, praying at 
the appointed hou7\^,^^ and observing all the precepts of 
the law. They were Jews, only differing from the 
others in their belief that the Messiah had already come. 
People who were not well versed in their concerns (and 
tliese were the immense majority), looked upon them aa 



108 



THE APOSTLES. 



a sect of Ilasidim, or pious people. By being affiliates] 
with them, they became neither schismatics nor heretics,'^ 
any more than a man ceases to be a Protestant on be- 
coming a disciple of Spenor, or a Catholic because he is 
a member of the order of St. Francis or St. Bruno. Tliej 
were beloved by the people on account of their piety, 
their simplicity, and sweetness of temper.^^ The aristo- 
crats of the temple, no doubt, regarded them with dis- 
fjivor. But the sect made little noise ; it was quiet and 
tranquil, thanks to its obscurity. At eventide, tlie 
brethren returned to their quarters and partook of the 
meal, divided into groups^^ as a mark of brotherhood and 
in remembrance of Jesus, whom they always saw present 
in the midst ot* them. The head of the table brake the 
bread, blessed the cup/^ and handed them round as 
a symbol of union in Jesus. The commonest act of 
life thus became the most holy and reverential one. 
These family repasts, always favorites with the Jevvs,^'' 
were accompanied by prayers and pious ejaculations, and 
abounded in a pleasant sort of joyful ness. They thought 
again of the time when Jesus cheered them by His 
presence; they fancied that they saw Ilim ; and soon it 
was bi'uited abroad that Jesus had said : " As often as 
ye break the bread, do it in remembrance of nie."^^ 

The bread itself became, in a certain manner, Jesus ; 
regarded as the only source of strength for those who 
had loved him, and who still lived by him. These 
repasts, which were always the principal symbol of 
Christianity and the very life of its mysteries,^ were at 
first served every night but soon custom resti'icted 
them to Sunday evenings^'* only ; and later, the mystic 
repast was transferred to the morning.^^ It is probable 



THE APOSTLES. 



10,) 



tliat at the period of tlie iiistory which we are now 
treating, tlie holiday of each week was still, with the 
Christians even, the Saturday.^'' The apostles chosen 
'by Jesus, and who were supposed to have received 
from Him a special command to announce to the world 
the kingdom of G ) l, ha 1, in the little commmity, an 
undoubted superiority. One of their tirst cares, as 
soon as they saw the sect quietly settled at Jerusalem, 
was to fill up the void which Judas of Kerioth had left 
in its ranks.^^ The opinion that this Judas had betrayed 
his Master and became the cause of his death, became 
more generally received. The legend was mixed up 
with him, and daily they learned some new circum- 
stance which increased tlie blackness of his deed. Pie 
had bouglit for himself a field near the old necropolis 
of Hakeldama, to the south of Jerusalem, and there he 
lived a retired llfe.^^ Such was the artless excitement 
which pervaded the whole of the little church, that in 
order to replace him they had recourse to the plan of 
casting lots. In general, in times of great religious 
excitement, this method of deciding is preferred, for it 
is admitted on principle that nothing is fortuitous, that 
the matter in hand is the principal object of the Divine 
attention, and that the part which God takes in any 
matter is greater in proportion to the weakness of man. 
The only condition w^as, that the candidates should be 
selected from the number of the older disciples, whc 
had been witnesses of the entire series of events since 
the baptism by John. This considerably reduced the 
number of those who were eligible. Only two were 
found in the ranks, Joseph Bar-Saba, who bore the name 
of Justus,^ and Matthias. The lot fell upon Matthias, 



110 



THE APOSTLES. 



who from that time was couiUed in the number of tha 
Twelve. But this was the only example of sn.ch a 
r ■[)lacini^. The apostles were considered hitherto as 
having been named bj Jesus once for all, and as not 
proposing to have any successors. The idea of a per 
manent college, preserving in itself all the life and 
strength of association, was judiciously rejected for a 
time. The concentration of the Church into an oli- 
garchy did not occur until much later. 

We must guai-d, moreover, against the misunder- 
standings wdiich this appellation of apostle " may 
induce, and which it h is no!" failed to occasion. From 
a very remote period the idea w\as formed, by some 
passages of the Go^ipMls, and above all by the analogy 
of the life of St. Paul, that the apostles were essen- 
tiallv travellino^ missionaries, distributiu";; amongst 
tliemselves in a certain way the world in advance, and 
traversing as conquei-ors all the kingdoms of the 
eai-th.^" A cycle of legends was invented in respect 
to tliis gift, and imposed upon ecclesiastical history.^^ 
Nothing is more opposed to the truth.^^ The tw^elve 
disciples were permanently settled at Jerusalem ; 
up to the year 6), or thereal)outs, they did not leave 
the holy citj, except on tempoi-ary missions. And 
in this way is exj)lained the obscurity in which the 
greater part of the cen^i-al co'iiicil remained ; very few 
of them had any particular duty to perform. They 
formed a sort of a saci'ed college or a senate,^ unequi- 
vocally destined to represent tradition and a conserva- 
tive spirit. In the end they were disch irged from all 
active duty, because they bad only to preach and to 
pray ;^ as yet the brilliant feats of preaching had not 



THE APOSTLES. 



Ill 



fallen to their lot. Scarcely were their names known 
oat of Jerusalem ; and about the year 70 or 80 the 
catalogues which were published of these twelve 
primary elect ones only agreed in the principal 
names.^ 

The "brothers of the Lord" appear to have been^ 
often with the " apostles," although they were dis- 
tinguished from theiii.^^ Their authority was at least 
equal tn that of the apostles. These two groups consti- 
tuted, in the nascent Chui'ch, a sr)rt of aristocracy, 
based entirely upon the greater or less intimacy which 
the)' had had wirh the Master. It was these men whom 
St. Paul called " pillars " of the Church of Jerusalem.-"^' 
We see, moreovei", that no distinctions of ecclesiastical 
hierarchy were yet in existence. The title was no- 
thing ; the personal authority was everything. The 
principle of ecclesiastical celibacy was already well 
established but it required time to conduct all these 
germs to their full development. Peter and Philip were 
married, and were the fathers of sons and daughters.'^^ 

The tei'm b_y which the assembly of the faithful was 
distinguished, was the Hebre w w<tvd Il i/icU, which was 
rendered by the essentially democratic word ixxKtirU, 
Ecclesia, which means the convocation of the {)eo})le in 
the ancient Gi'ecian cities, thv> summons to assemble at 
the Pnyx or the Afjora. Commencing about the 
second or third c.-ntui-y before Jesus Christ, Athenian 
democracy became a sort of comnh)n law wherever the 
Hellenic language was spoken ; many of these terms,^*^ 
on account of their being used in the Greek confra- 
ternities, were introduced int(^ the lano|;uao:e of Christi- 
unity. It was in reality the popular life, for centuries 



112 



THE APOSTLKS. 



kept iiiuler restraint, which reasserted its power niidcr 
entirely different forms. The primitive Church is, in 
its own way, a little democracy. The election by 
ballot, however — that mode so cherished by the ancient 
republics — is only rarely reproduced.^^ Far less harsh 
and suspicions than the ancient cities, the church 
readily delegated its anthority ; like every theocratic 
society, it had a tendency to abdicate its functions into 
the hands of the clergy, and it was easy to foresee that 
one or two centuries would scarcely elapse before all 
this democracy would resolve into an oligarchy. 

The powers wdiich they ascribed to an assembled 
Church and to its chiefs was enormous. All mission 
was conferred by the Church, which was entirely 
guided in its choice by signs given by the spirit."*^ Its 
authority extended as far as the death penalty. They 
related liow, at the voice of Peter, guilty persons 
fell backwards and expired immediately.'*^ St. Paid, 
at a later period, was not afraid, when excommunicat- 
ing an incestuous person, " to deliver him to Satan for 
the destrucrion of the ilesh, that the spirit may be 
saved in the day of the Lord Jesus." Excommunica- 
tion was considered equivalent to a sentence of death. 
They doubted not that an individual whom the 
apostles or chiefs of the Chui'ch had cut off from the 
body of the saints and delivered over to the power of 
the Evil One, w^as lost.'*^ Satan was considered to be 
the author of the diseases; to deliver to him the 
infected member w^as to hand him over to the natural 
executioner. A premature death was ordinarily con- 
sidered as the result of one of those secret judgments, 
which, according to the expressive Hebrew term, " cut 



THE APOSTLES. 



IL3 



off a sonl from Israel. ""^^ The apostles believed them- 
selves to be invested with siiperiiatiiral powers ; while 
pronouncing such condemnations, they believed that 
their anathemas could. not fail to be effectual. 

The terrible impression which these excommunica- 
tions made, and the hatred of all tlie brethren towards the 
members thus cut off, were powerful enough in fact to 
produce death in many cases, or at least to compel the 
guilty person to expatriate himself. The same fright- 
ful ambiguity was found in the old law. "Extirpa- 
tion " implied, at once decease, expulsion from the com- 
munity, exile, and a solitary and mysterious death.^'' 
To kill the apostate, or blasphemer, to beat his bovly 
in order to save his soul, would seem quite lawful. It 
must be remembered that we are treating of the times 
of zealots, who considered it a virtuous act to assassi- 
nate any one who failed in obedience to the law nor 
must we foi'get that some of the Christians wci-e, or 
had been, zealots.*-' Stories like that of the death of 
Ananias and Sapj)liira^ raised no scruples. The 
idea of the civil power was so strange to all this W()rld 
situated outside of the Homan law, they were so per- 
suaded that the Church was a complete society sutii- 
cient for all its own needs, that nobody regarded the 
death or mutilation of an indivi;lual as an outrage 
punishable by the civil law. Enthusiasm and burning 
faith covered all, yea, excused all. Ihit the frightful 
danger which these theoci-anc maxims entailed on the 
future was e;isily perceived. The Church is arined 
wiih a sword ; excoiuiuunication will be -a sentence of 
death. There is iiencet'ortli in the world a power above 
that of the State which disposes of the lives (.)f citizens. 



THE APOSTLES. 



Assuredly if the lloiiian power had limited itself to the 
I'epressiou among the Jews and the Christians of snch 
abominahle principles, it would have been a thousand 
times in the right. Only in its brutality it confounded 
the most legitimate of liberties, that of worshipping 
according to one's own conviction, with abuses wliicli 
no society has ever been able to endure with impunity 

Peter had a certain pi'imacy amongst the apostles 
vlie result of his daring zeal and activity .^^ In these 
early times he is scarcely ever separated from John, 
the son of Zebedee. Tiiey went together almost always,*^ 
md their perfect concord was doubtless the corner- 
^i<tone of the new faith. James, brother of the Lord, 
was nearly their equal in authoi'ity, at least in one sec- 
lion of the Church. In respect to certain intimate 
i -lends of Jesus, like the w^omen of Galilee and the 
frTinily of Bethany, we have already observed that we 
liave no more to do with them. Less anxious to 
organize and found a society, the faithful companions 
of Jesus were satisfied to love in death Him whom they 
had loved when alive. Totally occupied with their 
waiting, these noble women, wh.o have established the 
faith of the world, were ahnost unknown to the import- 
ant men of Jerusalem. When they died, the most 
important traits in the history of nascent Christianity 
were buried in the toml) with them. The active cha- 
racters alone became renowned ; tliose who are content 
to love secretly remain in obscurity, but assuredly 
they have the better part. 

It is supei'fluous to remark that this little group had 
no speculative theology. Jesus kept himself far re- 
moved from everything metaphysical. He had only one 



THE APOSTLES. 



115 



dogrna, His own divine Sonsliip and tlie divine antl-orirj' 
of His mission. Every symbol of the primitive Church 
might be contained in one line : " Jesus is the Messiah, 
the Son of God." Tins belief rested upon a peremp- 
tory argument, the fact of the resurrection, of which 
the disciples claimed to be witnesses. In reality, no 
one (not even the Galilean women) declared that they 
had seen the resurrection,^^ But the absence of the 
body and the apparitions which had followed appeared 
to be equivalent to the fact itself. To attest the 
resurrection of Jesus was the task which all consi- 
dered as being specially imposed upon them.^ They 
quickly entertained the idea that the Master had pre- 
dicted this event. Tiiey recollected different sayings 
of His, which they fancied that they had never tho- 
roughly understood, andin which they saw too late an 
announcement of the re&urrection.^^ Belief in the next 
gh)rious manifestation of Jesus was universal.^^ The 
secret word which the associated brethren used among 
themselves for purposes of mutual recognition and con- 
firmation was Maranatha, The Lord will come."^^ 
Tliey fancied tliat they remembered a declaration of 
Jesus, according to whicli their preaching would not 
have time to reach to all the towns of Israel before the 
Son of Man appeared in His majesiy.^ In the mean- 
while, Jesus risen is seated at tlie right hand of His 
Father. There He remains until the solemn day on 
which He shall come, seated on the clouds, to judge tlie 
quick and the dead.^^ 

Tlie idea which they had of Jesus was the very same 
which Jesus had given them of Himself. Jesus had 
been a mighty prophet in word and in deed,*^'° a man 



116 



THE APOSTLES. 



elect of God, having received a special mission in be 
half of mankind,*'^ a mission the trnth of which he had 
proved by His miracles, and, above all, by His resnrrec 
tion. God anointed Him with the Holy Spirit and en 
dued Him with power ; He went about doing good and 
healiiKL:; those who were under the power of the devil 
for God was with Him He is .the Son of God, that is, 
a man entirely sent of G<xl, a representative of Gi>d on 
earth ; He is the Messiah, the Saviour of Israel an- 
-iiounced by the prophets.^'* The perusal of the books 
of the Old Testament, above all of the Psahns and the 
prophets, was a constant habit of the sect. In these 
readings one fixed idea ever accompanied them, and 
that M'as to discover, above all other considerations, the 
type of Jesus. Tliey were persuaded that the ancient 
Hebrew books were full of Him, and, from the very 
first. He was moulded into a collection of texts drawn 
frcm the pro])hets and the Psalms and certain of the 
apocryphal books, wherein they were convinced that 
the life of Jesus was foretold and described in advance.^ 
This arbiti-ary mode of inrerpretation was, at that time, 
that of all the Jewisli schools. The Messianic allusions 
were a description of witty ti-ifling, analogous to the 
US3 which the ancient preachers made of passages. of 
the Bible, diverted from their natural meaning, and 
received as simple ornaments of sacred rhetoric. Jesiis, 
with His exquisite tact in i-eligions matters, IukI insti- 
tuted no new ritual movement. The new sect had not, 
as yet, any S])ecial ceremonies.*'^ Habits of ])iety v/'ere 
Jewish habits. The assemblies had nothing pi'iv'.i.el}^ 
lirurgic about tliem ; they were the sessions of C(»nfra- 
terniiies, in which they devoted themselves to pray«r, 



THE APOSTLES. 



117 



to glossological or proplietic^'^ exercises, and to tlieread 
ii]g of correspondence. There was nothing vet of 
sacerdotalism. There was no priest (cohen, o.- h^soi; ; 
the 2)resh//ter is the elder" of the conininnity, nothing 
nnore. Tlie only priest is Jesus f' in another sense, all 
the faithful are priests.^ Fasting was considered a 
very meritorious usage.^^ Eaptisni was the sign of 
entrance into the sect.'^ The rite was the same in 
form as the baptism of John, but it was administered 
in the name of Jesus. Baptism was always considered 
an insufficient initiation into the society. It should be 
followed by a conferring of the gifts of the Holy Spirit,'^ 
which was produced by means of a prayer pronounced 
over the head of the neophyte with the imposition 
of ] lands. 

This imposition of hands, already so familiar to Jesus, 
was the crowning sacramental act.''"* It conferred inspira- 
tion, inward illumination, the power of working won- 
ders, of prophesying and of speaking languages. This 
WLis what they called the baptism of the Spirit. They be- 
liev^ed that they recollected a saying of Jesus: ''John 
baptized you w^ith w^ater : but as for 3'ou, you shall 
be baptized w^ith the Spirit.''"^ Little by little these 
ideas became confused, and baptism w^as conferred in 
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost.*'^^ But it is not probable that this formula, at 
the earl}^ period which we are describing, was as yet 
employed. The simplicity of this primitive Christian 
worship is evident. ISTeither Jesus nor the apostles had 
invented it. Certain Jewish sects had adopted, before 
them, grave and solemn ceremonies, which appear to 
have come partly from Chaldtea, where tliey are still 



118 



THE APOSTLES. 



practised with special liturgies, bj the Saboeaiis and Men' 
daites.'^^ The Persian religion contained, likewise, many 
rites of the same description.'^^ The beliefs in popular 
medicine, which had accompanied the strength of Jesus, 
continued to be held by his disciples. The power of 
healing was one of the marvellous graces conferred by 
the Spirit.'^^ The first Christians, like all the Jews of 
the age, regarded diseases as. the jjunishment due to a 
fault, or the work of a malicious demon. The apos- 
tles, as well as Jesus, passed for powe'rful exorcists.^'^ 
They imagined that anointings with oil, administered by 
tliein, with impositic^n of hands and invocation of the 
name of Jesus, were a]l-})owerful to wash away the sins 
wliich were the causes of the disease, and to cure the 
sick.^^ Gil has always been in the lllast the chiefest of 
medicines.^'* Of itself, moi'cover, the imposition of h;inds 
by the apostles was supposed to have the same effect.^ 
This imposition was conferred by immediate contact 
with the person ; and it is not impossible that, in certain 
cases, the warmth of the hands, being sensibly commu- 
nicated to the head, produced some little relief to the 
sick man. The sect being young and few in num- 
ber, the question of the dead was only subsequently 
brought under their notice. The effect caused by tiie 
first deaths which took place in the ranks of the brother- 
hood was stranoe.^ They disquieted themselves about 
the condition of the departed ; they inquired if they 
would be less favon^d than those who were reserved to 
gee with their eyes the second advent of the Son of 
Man. Thej generally came to the conclusion that the 
interval between death and the resurrection was a sort 
of blank in the recollection of the defunct.^^ The idea, 



THE APOSTLES. 



119 



e'«'pre?se3f] in the Phcedon- that the soul exists before and 
after death ; that death is a benefit; that it is even the 
state above all others favorable to philosophy, beeanse 
the soul is then altogether tree and disengaged — this idea, 
1 say, was in no respect entertained b}^ the first Christians. 
They appear generally to have believed that man lias no 
existence apart from his hodj. This persuasion lasted a 
long time, and only gave way when the doctrine of the 
immortalitv of the soul, .in the sense of the Greek philoso- 
phy, had been received into the Church, and become 
associated, for good or for evil, with the Christi;ui dogma 
of the resurrection and universal restoration. At the 
time of which we speak, a belief in the resurrection 
prevailed almost alone.^ The funeral rites were doubt- 
less Jewish. No importance was attached to them ; no 
inscription pointed out the name of the departed. The 
great resurrection was at hand; the body of the fiithful 
had only to sojourn f )r a very short time in the rock. 
They took but little pains to (;ome to an agreement upon 
the question whether the resurrection would be univer- 
sal — that is to say, whether it would embrace both good 
and wicked, or would apply to the elect only.^ 

One of the most remarkable phenomena of the new 
religion was the reappearance of prophecy. For a 
long time previous, pi'ophets in Israel were scarcely 
mentioned. This peculiar kind of inspiration appear- 
ed to revive in the little sect. The primitive Church 
had many prophets and prophetesses,^^ answering to 
those of the Old Testament. Psalmists reappeared 
also. The model of the Christian Psahnoiy is, no 
doubt, to be found in the Canticles, which Luke loves to 
scatter about the pages of his Gospel,^^ and which are 



120 



THE APOSTLES. 



Iinitafced from the Canticles of the Old Test.iment. These 
Psalms and prophecies are, in point of form, destitute 
of originality ; but an admirable spirit of tenderness 
and piety animates and pervades them. It is like an 
attenuated echo of the later productions of the sacred Ijre 
of Israel. The book of Psalms was, in some sort, the 
calj^x of the flower from which the Christian bee stole 
its fi)"st juice. The Pentateucli, on the contrary, was, a,3 
it ai)pears, but little read and less pondered ; allegories 
were substituted in the form of Jewish midraHGliim^ in 
which all the historical meaning of the books was sup- 
pressed. 

The chanting with wdiich they accoTtipanied tlie new 
liymns^^ was probably that species of groaning without 
distinct notes, which is still the chant of the Greek 
Church, of the Maronites, arid of the Eastern Chi'istians 
in ijeneral.^^ It is not so much a musical modulation 
as a manner of forcing the voice, and of emitting 
througli the nose a sort of groaning, in which all the 
inflexions follow each other with rapidity. They per- 
foi'med this extraordinaiy melopoeia standing, with fixed 
eye, knit forehead, and contracted eyebrows, using an 
appearance f)f effort. The word amen^ above all, w^as 
uttered in a tremulous voice with bodily shaking. This 
word was of great importance in the liturgy. After 
the manner of the Jew^s,^^ the new faithful employed it 
to mark the assent of the people to the word spoken 
by the prophet or precentor.^^ They perhaps already 
attributed to it concealed virtues, and it was only pro- 
nounced with a certain emphasis. We know not whe- 
ther the primitive ecclesiastical chant was accompanied 
wdth instruments.^^ As to the inward chant, which the 



THE APOSTLES. 



121 



faitlifal '*sang in tlieir hearts,'"-'^ and which was nothing 
else than the overflowing of those tender spirits, ardent 
and dreamy as they were, they performed it no 
donbt like the slow chants of the Lollards of the Middle 
Ages, in a sort of whisper.^'^ In general, joyousness 
manifested itself in these hymns. One of the maxims 
of the sages of the sect was, " If thou art sad, pray ; 
if thou art merry, sing."^^ 

Moreover, this first Christian literature, designed as 
it was entirely for the edification of the assembled 
brethren, was not committed to writing. It entered 
into the mind of none to compose books. Jesus liad 
spoken ; they remembered his words. Had he not 
promised that that generation of his hearers should not 
pass away before he re-appeared among them 1 



CHAPTEE VL 



THE CONVERSION OF THE HELLENISTIC JEWS AND 
PROSELYTES. 

Up to tiie present time the Church of Jernsalem has 
practically been only a little Galilean colony. The 
friends of Jesus in Jerusalem and its vicinity, such as 
Lazarus, Martha and Mary of Bethany, Joseph of 
Arimathea and Nicodemus, had disappeared from the 
scene. Only the Galilean gi'oup gathered around the 
twelve apostles remained, compact and active; and 
meanwhile these zealous apostles were indefatigable 
in the work of preacliing. Subsequently^ after the fall 
of Jerusalem, and in places distant from Judea, it w^as 
reported tliat the sermons of the apostles had been 
delivered in public places and before large assemblages.^ 
The authorities who had put Jesus to death w^ould not 
permit the revival of such stories. Tlie proselytism 
of the faithful was chiefly carried on by means of 
pointed conversations, during which their hearty earnest- 
ness w^as gradually communicated to others.^ They 
preached under the portico of Solomon to audiences 
limited in number, but on whom they produced a most 
marked effect; their sermons consisted chiefly in such 
quotations from the Old Testament as would support 
their theory that Christ was the Messiah.^ Their reason- 
ing, though subtle, was weak ; but the entire exegesis 
of the Jews at that time was of the same character, 



THE APOSTLES. 



123 



and the dednctions drawn from tlie Bible by the doctors 
of the Mischtia are no more convincing. 

Still more feeble was the proof dei ived from pretended 
prodigies, which thej brought forward in support of theii 
arguments. It is impossible to doubt that the apostles 
believed that they possessed the power of performing 
miracles, which were acknowledged as the tokens of 
every Divine mission.^ St. Paul, by far the ablest mind 
of the pi-imitive Christian school, believed in miracles.'^ 
It was deemed certain that Jesus had performed them, 
and it was l)ut natural to suppose that the series of Diviiie 
manifestations was to continue. Indeed thaumaturgy 
was a privilege of the apostles until the end of the first 
century.^ The miracles of the apostles were of the 
same nature as those of Jesus ; and consisted principally, 
tliough not exclusively, in the healing of the sick and 
the exorcising of demons^ It was maintained that even 
their shadow sufficed to bring about these marvellous 
cures.^ Tiiese wonders were deemed direct gifts of the 
Holy Ghost, and held the same rank as the gifts of learn- 
ing, of pveaching, and of prophecy.^ In the third cen- 
tury the Church believed herseif possessed of the same 
privileges, and claimed as a permanent right the power 
of healing the sick, of driving out devily, and of predict- 
ing the future.^'' The ignorance of the peo])le encou- 
raged these pretensions. Do we not see in our day per- 
sons honest enough, but lacking in scientific intelligence, 
similarly deceived by the chimera of magnetism and 
other illusions 

It is not by these naive errors, nor by the meagre 
discourses found in the Acts^ that we must form our 
opinion of the means of conversion employed by the 



124 



THE 4P0STLES. 



fonnclei'S of Christianity. Tiie private conversationg 
of these good and earnest men, tlie reflection of tht? 
words of Jesns in iheir discourses, and above all, their 
piety and gentleness, formed the real power of 
their preaching. Their communistic life also had its 
attractions. Their house was like a hospice, where all 
the poor and forsaken found a refuge and an asylum. 

Among the first who attached himself to the young 
society was a Cypriote called Joseph Hallevi, or the 
Levite, who, like man}" others, sold his land and laid the 
money at the feet of the disciples. lie was an intelli- 
gent and devoted man, and a facile speaker. The apos- 
tles soon attaclied him to their band, and called him 
JBar-naba^ which means the "son of prophecy,'' or "of 
preaching. He was numbered among the prophets, 
that is to say, inspired preachers and later we shall 
see him playing an important part. After St. P<i.ul, he 
was the most active missionary of the first century. A 
certain Mnason was converted about the same time.^^ 
Cyprus was maiked by many Jewish characteristics," 
Barnabas and Mnason were undoubtedly of the Jewish 
race and the intimate and prolonged relations of Bar- 
nabas with the Church of Jerusalem give us reason to be- 
lieve that he was familiar with the Syro-Chaldaic tongue. 

A conversion almost equally as important as that of 
Barnabas, was that of a certain John, who bore the Ro- 
man surname of Marcus. He was cousin to Barnabas, 
and was a circumcised Jew.^^ His mother, Mary, a 
woman in easy circumstances, was also converted, and 
her residence was frequently visited by the apostles. 
These two conversions appear to have been the work of 
Peter,^^ who was very intimate with both mother and 



THE APOSTLES. 



125 



SOD, and considered himself at home in their house.^'-' 
Admitting the hypothesis that John-\[ark was not iden- 
tical with the true or supposed author of the second 
Gospel,^^ he vet pLaved. a prominent part, accompanying 
at a later period Paul and Barnabas, and probably Peter 
himself, on their apostolic journeys. 

The fire thus kindled spread rapidly. The niost cele- 
brated men of the apostolic age were gained to the cause 
in two or tl^ree years almost simultaneously. It was 
a second Christian generation, parallel to that which had 
been formed five or six years previously on the shores 
of Lake Tiberias. This second generation, not having 
seen Jesus, could not equal the first in authority, but 
surpassed it in activity and in the ardor for distant 
missions. One of the best known of these new adepts 
was Stephanus or Stephen, who before his conversion 
was probably only a sim[)le proselj^te.^^ lie was a man 
full of fervor and passion, his f lith was very strong, and 
he was believed to be endowed with all the gifts of the 
Spirit.^^ Philip, who, like Stephen, was a zjalous dea- 
con and evangvlist, joined the community at about the 
same time,^^ and was often confoundv^d with the apos- 
tle of the same name.^^ Finally, at this e[) oeh, Andro- 
nicus and Junia^^ were converted. They were probably 
husband and wife, who, like Aquila. and Priscilla at a 
later date, were the veiy model of an apostolic couple, 
thoroughly devoted to the missionary cause. They were 
of Israel itish blood, and enjoyed the warm friendship 
of the apostles.2^ 

Although the new converts were all Jews by religion, 
when touched by grace, they belonged to two very differ- 
ent classes of Jews. Some were " Hebrews," or Jews 



128 



THE APOSTLES. 



of Palestine, speaking Hebrew, or rather Aramaic, and 
reading the Bible in the Hebrew text. The others 
were " Hellenists,'' or Jews speaking Gi-etk, and read- 
ing the Bible in that tongue. These last were further 
sabdivided into two classes — the one being of Jewish 
blood; the other proselytes, or people of non-Tsraelitish ' 
origin, affiliated m different degrees to Jadaism. The 
Hellenists, who almost all came from Syria, Asia Minor, 
Egj^pt, or Cyrene,^^ Inhabited a sep-irate quarter of Jeru- 
salem, where they had their distinctive synagogues, thus 
forming little communities by themselves. There were 
a large number of these private synagogues''^^ in Jerusa- 
lem, and in them the word of Jesus found a soil pre 
pared for its reception. 

The primitive nucleus of the Church was exclusively 
composed of "Hebrews;" and the Aramaic dialect, 
"which was the language of Jesus, was the only one in 
use: but during the second or third year after the death 
of Jesus, Greek was introduced into the little community, 
and soon became the dominant tongue. Through their 
daily cornnmnication witii th;)se new brethren, Peter, 
John, James, Jude, and the Galil«-an disciples in general, 
learned Greek very easily, es{)eeially as they probably 
knew somethino'of it beforehand. An incident soon to 

o 

be mentioned shows that this diversity of language 
created at first some division in the community, and 
that the two fractions could not always readily agree;'^^ 
After the ruin of Jerusalem, we shall see the " He- 
brews " retire beycmd the Jordan, to the heights of 
Lake Tiberias, and form a separate Church, which 
had its individual history. But in the meantime it 
does not appear that the diversity of language serious- 



THE APOSTLES. 



12? 



]y afFdCted the Church. The Orientals leara new Ian- 
giiages verj^ easily, and in the towns every one sj^eaki 
two or three dialects. It is probable that tlie leading 
Gralilean apostles acquired the use of the Greek so far 
that they used it in preference to the Syro-Chaldaic 
whenever the majority of their listeners understood it. 
It was evident that the dialect of Palestine must be aban- 
doned by those who dreamed of a wide-spread propagan- 
da. A provincial J>ai0^s which was written with dliTi-.;u]- 
ty^^ and only in use in Sj^ia, was palpabh^ insaliicient 
for such an undertaking. Greek, oa the contrary, was 
ahnost a necessity to Christianity. It was the universal 
language of the age, at least around the eastern basin of 
the Mediterranean ; and it was especially the language of 
the Jews dispersed throughout the Roman empire. Then, 
as now, the Jews adopted vrith facility the idioms (;F the 
countries they inhabited. They were by no means pur- 
ists, and this explains why the Greek used by the primi- 
tive Christians was so corrupt. Even the best educated 
Jews pronounced the classic language badly.^^ Their 
phraseology was always founded on the Syriac. They 
never freed themselves from tlie eff>'ct of the corrupt 
dialects, which dated from the Macedonian conquests.^^ 
The conversions to Christianity soon became much 
more numerous among the Hellenists " than among 
the " Hebrews." The old Jews of Jerusalem f umd 
little attraction in a provincial sect but ])0()rly versed 
in Oie only science appreciated by a Pharisee — tlie 
science of the law. Tlie i-elations of the little Ciuirch 
towards Judaism., like Jesus himself, were rather equi- 
vocal. But every i-eligious or political party has an 
innate force which rules it, and, despite of itself, com- 



128 



THE APOSTLES. 



pels it to travel in its orbit. The first Christians, how- 
ever great their apparent respect for Judaism, were, in 
reality, only Jews by their birth or by their outward 
cnstoras. The true spirit of the sect had disappeared. 
The Talmud gern\inated in official Judaism, and Chris- 
tianity had no aiiinity with the Talmud school. This is 
why Christianity found special favor among those 
nominal adherents of Judaism who were the least Jew 
ish. Itlgid orthodoxy did not incline towards the Chris 
tian sect ; and it was the new-comers, people scarcel} 
catechized, who had not been to the great schools, and 
were ignorant of the holy language, who lent a willing 
ear to the apostles and their disciples. Yiewed rather 
contemptuously by the ai'istocracy of Jerusalem, these 
parveniis of Judaism were not without their revenge. 
Young and newly formed parties always have less 
respect for tradition than older members of connnu- 
iiities, arid are more susceptible to the charms of 
novelty. 

These classes, little subjected to the doctors of the law, 
were also it seems the most credulous. Credulity is not a 
characteristic of the Talmudic Jew. The creduhnis Jew, 
fond of the marvellous, was not the Jew of Jerusalem, but 
the Hellenist Jew ; who was at the same time very reli- 
gious and very ignorant, and consequently very supersti- 
tious. ^Neither the half incredulous Sadducee, nor the 
rigorous Pharisee, w^ould be much affected by the theo- 
ries popular in the apostolic circle. But the Judaeua 
Apella, of whom the epicurean Horace wrote,^^ was ready 
to give in his adhesion. Social questions, besides, par- 
ticularly interested those who received no benefit from 
the opulence enjoyed by Jerusalem as the locality of 



THE APOSTLES. 



12^ 



the temple and otlier central iiisiiriUioTis of the nation; 
and it was by a i-ecogiiition of the needs to whicli in this 
day modern socialism seeks to respond, that the new 
Beet hiid the solid foundation of its mighty future. 

6* 



CHAPTER VII. 



TETE ciirKCii consider?:d as an association of poor 

PEOPLE. INSTITUTION OF THE DIACONATE. DEACONESSES 

AND WIDOWS. 

A coMPAFisoN of tlie liistorj of religion shows, as a 
general trurh, that all those religions not c(»nteni- 
j)orar3^ with the origin of language itself, owe 
their establishment to social rarher than theological 
canses. This was assuredly the case with Buddhism, 
the pi-odigious success of which may he traced to its 
social element, rathei- than to the nihilistic principle on 
Avhich it was based. It was in proclaiming the aboli- 
tion of castes, aiid establishing, in his words, " a law of 
gijice for all," that Sak^-a-Mouni and his disciples 
gained the adherence, liist of India, and then of the 
largest poi-tion of A^iji.^ Like Ciiristianity, Buddhism 
was a movement of the lower classes. Its great atti'ac- 
tion was the facility it afforded the poor to elevate them- 
selves by the profession of a i-eligion which improved 
their condition and offered them inexliaustible assistance 
and sympathy. 

The poor were a numerous class in Judea during the 
first century. The counti'v was naturally scantily pi-o- 
vided with luxuries. In these countries where industry 
is almost unknown, almost every fortune owes its origin 
either to richly endowed religious instirutions or govern- 
ment patronage. TLie riches of the temple were for a 



THE APOSTLLS. 



131 



long time the exclusive appanage of a limited nui'iber 
of nobles. Tiie Asn:ioneans gailiered around tiieir dy- 
nasty a circle of rich families; and the Hero Is C').i- 
siderably increased the welfare and luxury uf a cerr^i i 
class (if society. But the real theocratic Jew, turniu^ 
Ills back upon Xtoman civilization, only became poorer. 
He belonged to a class (jf h'Av men, fanatically 
jjious, rigidly observant of the law, and miserably and 
abjectly poor. From this class, the sects of enthusiasts 
so numerous at this period, received their recruits. 
The universal dream of these [)eople shadowed forth the 
tj'iumph of the poor Jew who remained faithful, and the 
humiliati()n of the rich, who were considered as rene- 
gades and traitors, because of their ci vilizati')n and dif- 
ferent mode of life. Intense indeed was the hatred 
entertained l)y these pooi* fanatics against the s})lendid 
editices which now beg^m to adorn the countiw, and 
against the public work- of die R )mans.^ O'oliged as they 
wei-e to toil for their d liiy brea 1 on these structures, 
which to them seemed monuments of piide and forbid- 
den luxury, they considered theuiselves the victims of 
men who were rich, wicked, corrup*", and intidels to the 
Divine Law. 

In such a social state an association for mutual be- 
neiit would naturally receive a warm welcome. Tiie 
li.tle Christian Church appeared to be a paradise. This 
family of simple and united brethren attracted peo[)le 
f.-om every quarter, who in return tbr that which they 
hrouglit secured a settled future, the society of conge- 
]ual friends, an*] precious spiritual hopes. The 
general custom of converts^ was to convert into specie 
their property, vrhich usually consisted of little farm.a 



132 



THE APOSTLES. 



bat scantily productive. To iinioaiTied people in par- 
ticular the exchange of their plots of land for shares in 
a society which would secure thein a place in the Hea- 
venly Kingdom, could not be otherwise tlian advan- 
tageous. Several married persons did likewise. Care 
was taken that the new associates should contribute 
their entire effects to the common fund without retain- 
ing any portion for private use.* Indeed, as each one 
received from the common treasury in proportion to 
his needs, and not in proportion to his contributions, 
every reservation of property was a fraud on the com- 
munity. Such attempts at organization show a surpris- 
ing resemblance to certain Utopian experiments made 
recently ; but with tlie important difference that Chris- 
tian communism rested on a religious basis, which is not 
the case witli modern socialism. It is evident that an 
association wdiose dividends were declared not in propor- 
tion to the capital subscribed, but in proportion to indivi- 
dual needs, must rest only upon a sentiment of exalted 
self-abnegation and an ardent faith in a religious ideal 
Under such a social constitution, liowever, and de 
spite of the high degree of fraternity, the administra- 
tive difficulties were necessarily numerous. The differ- 
ence of language between the two factions of the 
community inevitably led to misapprehensions. The 
Jews of higher birth could not restrain a feeling of 
contempt for their more humble brethren in the faith, 
and soon expressed their dissatisfaction. ''The Hel- 
lenists," whose numbers daily increased, complained 
that their widows received less at the distributions than 
those of the "Hebrews."^ Until this time the apostles 
had attended to the linancial affairs of the community; 



THE APOSTLES. 



loo 



but, feelins: now tlie necessitv of delei^atiiior to oihers 
this part of their authority, tliej proposed to coiihJo 
the administrative duties to seven experienced and 
leading men. The proposition was acce])ted, and at 
the election, Steplianus or Steplien, Philip, Frocliorus, 
Nicauor, Timon, Parnienas, and Nicholas, were cho- 
sen. This last was a simple proselvte from Antioch, 
and Stephen, perhaps, was the same.'^ It seems that, in 
opposition to the course followed in the election of the 
Apostle Matthew, the choice of the seven administrators 
was not made from a group of primitive disciples, but 
from the new converts, and especially from the Hellen- 
ists. The names of all of them, indeed, were purely 
Greek. Stephen was the lea ling spirit of the seven, 
who, in accordance with the established rite, were for- 
mally presented to the apostles, and confirmed by them 
in the ceremony of laying on of hands. 

The administrators thus designated received the Syriac 
name of Schammasichhi^ and were also sometimes called 
"the seven," in the same manner that the apostles 
were called " the twelve.'"* Such was the oi-igin of 
the Diaconate, the most ancient of sacred and ecclesi- 
astical orders. In imitation of th » church of Jerusalem, 
all the other churches introduced the Diaconate, and 
the institution spread with marvellous rapidity. This 
institution, indeed, elevated the care of the poor to an 
equality with religious services. It was a proclama- 
tion of the trnth that social questions should be the 
tirst to occupy the attention of man. It was the intro- 
duction of political economy into religious affairs. The 
djacons were the best preachers of Christianity, and 
we shall soon see how they played their part as evan- 



THE APOSTLES. 



gelists. As organizers, financial dij-ectors, and adini 
iiistrators, tliej had a still more important part. Tlu'sc 
])ractical men in perpetual contact with the ])Oi)r, the 
j-ich, and the women, viisted everywhere, observed 
everything, and by their exhortations were the most 
efficient agents of conversion.^ They did much more 
than the apostles who remained stationary at the cen- 
tral point of authority in Jerusalem ; and to them we 
are indebted for the most prominent and solid features 
of Christianity. 

From a very early ]:)oriod women were admitted to 
this em|>l(tyment and, as in these days, they were 
called sisters."^^ At hrst they were widows but 
later, virgins were ])referi'ed for this (jffice.^^ Admira- 
ble tact was shown by the Church in this movement. 
These good and simple men, with that profound science 
which comes from the heart, laid the basis of that 
g!-and system of charity which is the peculiar mei'it of 
Christianity. They had no pi*ece'ient f )r such an in- 
stitution. A vast system of benevolence and of reci- 
procal aid, to which the two sexes brought their divei'se 
qualities, and lent their united efForis for the I'elief of 
human misery, was the holy creation which resulted 
fiom the travail of these tw<^ or three first years — the 
most ])!-olitic years in the history of Christianity. It is 
certain that the vital thouglits of J^-sus filled the souls 
of [lis disciples and dii'ected all their acts. Justice, 
indeed,^ demands that to Jesus should be referred the 
honor of all the great deeds of His apostles. It is pro- 
bable that during His life He laid the foundations of 
those establishments which were successfully developed 
so soon after His death. 



THE APOSTLES. 



135 



Women, nalnrally, were attracted towards a com 
miinirj where the weak were so coidiallj protected. 
Their position in society liad previously been humble 
and precarious ; widows, particularly, notwitlistandmg 
several protecting laws, were but little respected,^* and 
often even abandoned to misery. Many of the doctoi's 
were opposed to giving them any religious education.^" 
The Talmud plnced along with the other [)ests of man- 
kind, the gossiping anil inrpiisitive widow, who spent 
her days in chatting with !ier neighbors, and the maiden 
who wasted her time in incessant praying.^^ The new 
religion offered to tiiese o )or an I nei»:lecte 1 souls a sure 
and honorable asylum.^'' Several women occupied a 
prominent {)lace in tlie Church, ;iud rh-'ir houses served 
as places of meeting;'^ while those wlio had no houses 
were formed into a species of feminine presl)yteral 
body, comprising probably the virgins, who did im- 
portant duty in charitable works. Tliose institutiojis, 
regarded as the fruit of a later Christianity, sueh as 
congregations of wr)men, nuns, an-l sisters of charity, 
were really one of its first creations, the beginning of 
its influence, and the most jx^rfect ex{)ression of its 
spirit. The admirable idea of consecrating by a sort 
of religious character and su[)jec'ing to regular disci- 
pline those women who were n«>t in the bonds f)f mar- 
riage, is peculiarly ami entii-ely Christian. The word 
''widow" became a s_ynonyme for a person devoted to 
religious works, consecrated t<^ God, and, consequently, 
a " deaconess."^ In those countries, where the wife at 
her twenty-fourth year already began to fade, and where 
there was no middle state between tlie child and the 
old wonian, it was practically a new life which wa3 



TIli<: APOSTLKS. 



thus opened for that portion ot* the hiunaii race the 
most ca[)al)le of devotion. 

The times of tlie Seleucidiie had been a terr hlo 
epoch foi' female depravity. Never before were knc \vn 
8o many domestic dramas, and such a series of poisonings 
and achdteries. Tlie wise men of that day considered 
woman as a scourge to humanity ; as the first cause of 
baseness and shame ; as an evil genius whose only part 
in life was to impair whatever there was of good in tlio 
opposite sex. Christianity changed all this. At that 
age which, to our view, is yet youth, but at which the 
existence of the Oriental woman isso gloomy, so fatally 
prone to evil suggestions, the widow could, by covering 
lier head with a black shawl,^' become a respectabh) 
person worthily employed, and, as a deaconess, the 
e(|ual of the most esteemed men in the community. 
Tlie difficult and dubious [)osition of the childless 
widow, Christianity elevated even to sanctity .^"^ Tlio 
widow became almost the ecpial of the maiden. She 
was xxXoypioi, " beautiful old age,"^'^ venerated and 
useful, and receiving the respect usiudly award- 
ed to a mother. These women, constantly going 
to and fro, were the most usefid missionaries of the 
new rebVion. Protestants are in error in viewing these 
facts through the light of the system of modei-n indi- 
viduality. Sociabsm and cenobitism are primitive fea- 
tures of Christianity. 

The bishop and priest of later days did not yet exist ; 
but that intimate familiarity of souls not bound by ties 
of blood, known as the pastoral ministry, was already 
founded. This was always the special gift of Jesus; 
and, as it were, a heritage from llim. Jesus had often said 



THE APOSTLES. 



137 



that He was more than father and motlier, and that tliose 
wlio Ibllowed Him mnst forsake those beloved beings. 
Christianity placed some tilings abov^e the family. It 
created a fraternity and spiritual marriages. The 
ancient system of marriages, which without restriction 
placed the wife in the power of the husband, was mere 
slavery. The moral liberty of woman began when the 
Church srave her in Jesus a friend and a o^uide, who 
advised and consoled her, always listened to her griev- 
ances, and sometimes advised resistance. Women need 
a governing power, and are only happy when governed ; 
but it is necessary that they should love the one who 
wields that power. This is what neither ancient: 
society, Judaism, nor Islamism, were able to do. 
Woman never had a religious conscience, a moral 
individuality, or an opinion of her own, previous to 
Christianity. Thanks to the Bishops and to mo;iastic 
life, Hadegonda fjund means for escaping fro;n the 
arms of a barbarous husband. The life of the soul 
being all that is really of importance, it is just and 
reasonable that the pastor who would m:ike the divine 
chords of the heart vibrate, the secret counsellor who 
holds the key of the conscience, should be more than a 
father, more than a husband. 

In one sense Christianity was a reaction against the 
too narrow domestic system of the Aramaic race. The 
old Aramaic societies only admitted married men, and 
were singularly strict in their views of the marriage 
relation. All this was somethino^ analoi^ous to the 
English family — a narrow, closed up, contracteJ circle — ■ 
an egotism of several, as withering to the soul as the 
egotism of an individual. Christianity, with its divine 



138 



THE APOSTLES. 



idea of the liberty of God, corrected these exaggeratk ns. 
And first it allotted to every one the duties common to 
mankind. It saw that the family relation was not of 
sole importance in life, or at least that the duty of re- 
producing the human race did not devolve on every one ; 
and that there should be persons freed from tliese duties, 
which are undoubtedly sacred, but not intended for 
every one. The same exceptions made in favor of 
the hetaircB like Aspasia by Greek society, and of 
the cortigiana like Imperia, in recognition of the 
necessities of polished society, Christianity made for 
the priest and the deaconess for the public welfare. 
It admitted different classes in society. There are 
people wdio find it more delightful to be loved by a 
hundred people than by five or six; and f)r these the 
family in its ordinary conditions seems insufficient, cold, 
and wearisome. Why, then, should we extend to all, 
the exigencies of our dull and mediocre social system? 
His temporal family is n<^t sufficient for man ; he feels 
the need of brothers and sisters besides those of the flesh. 

By its hierarchy of different social functions, the primi- 
tive Church seemed to conciliate for the time these op- 
posing exigencies. We shill never understand, never 
compreliend,how happy tliese people were under these h(;ly 
regulations which sustained liberty without restraining 
it, and );)ermitted at the same time the advantages of 
communistic and priv';ite life. It was far different from 
the confusion of our artificial societies, in which the sen- 
sitive soul so often finds it cruelly isolated. In these 
little refuges which they call churches, the social atmo- 
sphere was sweet and inviting; the member lived there 
in the same faith and actuated by the same hopes. But 



THE ATOSTLES. 



139 



it ii clear that these conditions couM not apply to a very 
large society. When entire countries became Christian- 
ized, the system of tlie first church. 's became a Utopian 
idea only partially realized in monasteries, and the mo 
nastic life in this sense was the continuation of the primi- 
tive cburches."^^ The convent is the necessary consequenca 
of the Christian spirit ; there is no perfect Christianity 
without the convent, because it is only there that the 
evangelical idea can be realized. 

A large share of the credit, certainly, of these great 
creations should be given to Judaism. Each one of the 
Jewish communities scattered along the shores of the 
Mediterranean was already a sort of church, with its 
charitable ti'easur}^ Almsgiving, alwaj's recommended 
by the elders,^ was a recognised precept; it was prac- 
tised in the temple and in the synagogues,-^ and it was 
deemed the first duty of the proselyte.-^ Iq every age 
Judaism was noted for its careful attention to the poor, 
and the fraternal charity winch it inspired. 

It W(;uld be highly unjust to hold up Christianity as a 
reproach to Judaism, since to the latter primitive Chris- 
tianity owes almost everything. It is when we look upon 
the Koman world that we are the most astonished at the 
miracles of charity performed by the Church. Xever 
did a profane society, recognising only right for its basis, 
produce such admirable effects. The law of every pro- 
fane, or, if I may say so, every philosophic sj^stem of 
society, is liberty, sometimes equality, but never frater- 
nity. To charity, viewed as a right, it acknowledges no 
obligations, it only pays attenti to individuals; it 
finds charity often inconvenient, and neglects it. Every 
attempt to apply the public funds to the aid of the poor 



140 



THE APOSTLES. 



savors of communism. When a man dies of hunger, 
when entire classes languish in miserj', the policy of the 
profene social system limits itself to acknowledging that 
the fact is unfortunate. It can easily show that there is 
no civil order without liberty ; now, as a consequence of 
liberty, he who has nothing, and can get nothing, 
perishes from hunger. That is indeed logical; but there 
is no guard against the abuse of logic. The necessities 
of the most numerous class always result in dispensing 
with it. Institutions purely political and civil are not 
enough ; social and religious aspirations claim a religious 
satisfaction. The glory of the Jewish people is, that 
they boldly proclaimed this principle. The Jewish law 
is social, and not political ; the prophets, the authors of 
the Apocalypses, were the ])r()m()ters of social and poli- 
tical revolutions. In the first hnlf of the first century, 
in the presence of profane civilization, the absorbing idea 
of the Jews was to repel the benefits of the Roman sys- 
tem, with its philosophy, democracy, and equality, and 
to proclaim the excellence of their theocratic law. " The 
law is happiness,'' was the idea of such Jewish thinkers 
as Philon und Jose[)hus. The laws of other people were 
intended to secure justice, and had nothing to do with 
the goodness niid ha})piness of man ; while on the other 
hand, the Jewisli law descended to the details of moral 
education. Christianity is only the development of this 
idea. Each church is a monastery where all possess 
rights over all the others; where there should be neither 
poor nor wicked; and where, consequently, every indi- 
vidual is careful to guard and restrain hnnself Primi- 
tive Christianity may be defined as a vast association 
of poor people ; as a heroic struggle against egotism, 



THE APOSTLES. 



141 



founded upon the idea that no one has a right to more 
than is absolutely necessary for him, and that all the 
superfluity belongs to those who possess nothing. It 
will at once be seen that with such a spirit and the Roman 
spirit war to the death must ensue ; and that Christianity, 
on its part, can never dominate the world without im- 
portant modifications of its native tendencies and its 
original programme. 

But the needs which it represents wdll always last. 
The communistic life durino^ the second half of the 
Middle Ages, serving for the abuses of an intolerant 
Church, the monastery having become a mere feudal 
fief, or the barracks for a dangerous and fanatic military 
modern feeling, became bitterly opposed to the cenobitic 
system. We have forgotten that it w-as in the commu- 
nistic life that the soul of man experienced its fullest 
joy. The song, " Oh, how good and joyful a thing it 
is for brethren to dwell together in unity, ''^"^ has ceased 
to be our refrain. But when modern individualism 
shall have borne its latest fruits, when humanity, 
shrunken and saddened, shall also have become weak 
and impotent, it wdll return to these great institutions 
and stern disciplines ; when our material society — I 
should say our w^orld of pigmies — shall have been 
scourged with whips by the heroic and the idealistic, 
then the communistic system will retrain all its force. 
Many great things, such as science, will be organized 
under a monastic form. Egotism, the essential law of 
civil law, of civil society, wnll be insufficient for great 
minds ; all coming, from wdiatever point of view, will t)e 
opposed to vulgarity. The words of Jesus and the 
ideas of the Middle Ages in regard to poverty will again 



142 



THE APOSTLES. 



be appreciated. It will be understood tliat tlie posses- 
sion of anj'tliing implies an inferiority, and that tlie 
founders of the nij^stic life disputed for cenrr.ries as to 
whether Jesus owned even that which he used fur his 
daily wants. The Franciscan subtleties will become 
again great social problems. The splendid ideal de- 
vised by the author of the Acts will be inscrioed as 
a prophetic revelation at the gates of the paradise of 
humanity : "And the multitude of them that believed 
were of one heart and one soul ; neither said of them 
that aught of the things which he possessed was his 
own, but they had all things in common, neither was 
any among them that lacked : tor as many as were 
possessors of land or houses sold them, and brought 
the price of the things that were sold, and laid them 
down at the apostles' feet, and distribution was made 
nnto every man, according as he had need. And they 
continuing with one accord in the temple and breaking 
bread from house to house, did eat their meat with 
gladness and singleness of heart."^^ 

Let us not anticipate events. It is now about the 
year 36. Tiberius at Caprea could have no more doubt 
that a formidable enem}^ to the empire was growing up. 
In two or three years the new sect had made surprising 
progress ; now counted several thousands of adherents.^^ 
It was easy to foresee that its conquests would be chiefly 
among the Hellenists and proselytes. The Galilean 
group, which had heard the Master, though preserving 
its precedence, seemed almost lost in the current of new- 
comers who spoke Greek. At the time of which we 
speak, no heathen, that is to say, no man who had not 
held previous relations with Judaism, had entered into 



THE APOSTLES. 



tlie Churcli ; but proselytes performer] importnnt fune.- 
tions ill it. The jurisdiction of the diseiples h,iJ also 
largely extended, and was no longer simply a little college 
of Palestineans, but included people of Cyprus, Antioeh, 
and Cyrene, and of almost all the points on the eastern 
shore of the Mediterranean where Jewish colonies had 
been established. Egypt alone knew nothing of the primi- 
tive Church, ai.d for a long time remained ignorant. 
The Jews of that C(^untry were almost in a state of 
schism with those of Judea. They had customs of their 
own, superior in many points to those of Palestine, and 
were almost entirely unaffected by the great religious 
movement at Jerusalem. 



CHAPTER VIIL 



FIRST PERSECUTIOX. DEATH OF STEPHEX. DESTRUCHOH 

OF THE FIRST CHURCH OF JERUSALEM*!. 

IT was inevitable that the preachings of the new sect, 
even while they were disseminated with much reserve, 
should revive the anim.osities which had accumulated 
against its Founder, and had ultimatelv resulted in Ilia 
death. The Sadducee family of Hanan, which had caused 
the death of Jesus, was still reigning. Joseph Caiaphaa 
occupied, up to the year 36, the sovereign Pontificate, 
the effective power of which he left to his father-in-law 
Hanan, and to his relations, John and Alexander.^ These 
arrogant and pitiless personages saw with impatience a 
troop of good holy men, without any official position, 
gaining tlie favor of the crowd.^ Once or twice Peter, 
John, and the principal members of the apostolical col- 
lege, were thrust into prison and condemned to be beaten. 
This was the punishment inflicted on heretics.^ The 
authorization of the Romans was not necessary for its 
infliction. As may well be supposed, these brutalities 
did but excite the ardor of the apostles. They came 
forth from the Sanhedrim, where they had just under- 
gone flagellation, fall of joy at having been deemed 
worthy to undergo contumely for Him whom they 
loved.* Eternal puerility of penal repressions, applied 
to things of the soul ! They passed, no doubt, for men 
of order, for models of prudence and wisdom, these 



THE APOSTLES. 



145 



blunderers, wlio seriously believed in the year 36 they 
could put down Christianity with a few whippings! 

These outrages were perpetrated principally by the 
Sadducees,^ that is to say by the upper clei-gy, who sur- 
rounded the temple, and derived thence inimense pro- 
Jits.^ It does not seem that the Pharisees disphxyed to- 
wards the sect the animosity they showed to Jesus. 
The new believers were people pious and p.^rict in their 
manner of Hfe, not a little lilce the Pliarisees themselves. 
The rnge which the latter felt against the Founder sprang 
from the superiority of Jesus — a superiority which He 
took no pains to disguise. His delicate sarcasms, His 
intellect, the charm there was about Him, His hatred to 
hypocrites, had enkindled a savage ire. The apostles, 
on the contrarj^, were destitute of wit; they never em- 
ployed irony. The Pharisees were at certain moments 
favorable to them; many Pharisees even became Chris- 
tians.'' The teri'ible anathemas of Jesus against Phari- 
saism had not 3^et been written, and tradition of the 
words of the Master was neither general nor uniform.^ 

Thi^se first Christians were, moreover, people so inof- 
fensive, that many persons of the Jewish aristocracy, 
without exactly forming part of the sect, were well dis- 
posed towards them. Nicodemus and Joseph of Ari- 
mathea, who had known Jesus, remained, no doubt, 
linked in bonds of brotherhood with the Church. The 
most celebrated Jewish Doctor of the times. Rabbi 
(raraaliel the Elder, grandson of Hillel, a man of broad 
and very tolerant ideas, gave his opinion, it is said, in 
the Sanhedrim in favor of the freedom of Gospel preach- 
ing.^ The author of Tl^e Ads puts into his mouth some 
excellent reasonino^, which ouiiht to be the rule of con- 



146 



THE APOSTLES. 



duct for Governments whenever they find themselves 
confronted with novelties in the intellectual or moi-al 
order. "If this woi'k is frivolous, leave it alone, it will 
fall of itself; if it is serious, how dare you resist the 
AYork of God? In an}^ case you will not succeed in 
stopping it." Gamaliel was but little heeded. Liberal 
minds in the midst of opposing fanaticisms have no 
chance of success. 

A terrible excitement was provoked by the Deacon 
Stephen.^^ His preaching had, as it seems, great success. 
The crowd flocked around him, find these gatherings re- 
sulted in som.3 lively disputes. It was mostly Ilelh'nists, 
or proselytes, attendants at the synagogue of the Lihe.r- 
tmi^^ as it was called — people of Cj'rene, of Alexandria, 
ofCihcia, of Ephesus, who were active in these disputes. 
Stephen passionately maintained tiiat Jesus was tlie 
Messiah ; that the priests had committed a crime in put- 
ting him to death ; that the Jews were rebels, sons of 
rebels, people that denied evidence. The authorities 
resolved to destroy this audacious preacher; witnesses 
were subni-ned to watch for sonie word in his discourses 
against Moses. Naturally they found what they sought 
for. Stej^hen was arrested and taken before the San- 
hedrim. The word with which he was reproached was 
nearly the same as that which led to the condemnation 
of Jesus."^^ He was accused of saying that Jesus of N;iza- 
reth would destroy the temple, and change the traditions 
attributed to Moses. It is very possible, in fact, that 
Stephen had used such language. A Christian of this 
epoch would not have had any idea of speaking directly 
against the law, since all still observed it; but as to tra- 
ditions, Stephen might combat them as Jesus himself 



THE APOSTLES. 



147 



bad dvone. ^ow these traditions were foolishly ascribed 
to Moses hy the orthodox, and an equal value was attri- 
buted to them as to the written law.^-'^ 

Stephen defended himself by expounding the Christian 
thesis, witli copious citations from the law, from the 
Psalms, from the prophets, and termmated by reproaching 
the members of the Sanhedrim with the homicide of Jesus. 
" 0 blockheads ! and uncircumcised in heart,'' said he to 
them, "you will then ever resist the Holy Ghost, as your 
fathers also have done. Wliich of the prophets have not 
your fathers persecuted ? They have slain those who 
announced the coming of the Just One, whom you have 
bf^traj^ed, and of whom you have been the murderers. 
This law that you had received from the mouth of 
angels^'* you have not k-'pt." At th,\se words a cry of 
rage interrupted him. Stephen, bee on^ing ni'ore and 
more exalted, fell into one of those paroxysms of enthu- 
siasm that are called the inspirati<)n of tlie Holy Ghost. 
His eyes were fixed on high ; he saw the glory of God 
and Jesus beside his Father, and cried out : " Behold, I 
see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man sitting on 
the right hand of God." All the listeners stopped their 
ears and threw themselves up!)n him, gnashing their 
teeth. They dragged him outside the city and stoned 
him. The witnesses who, according to the law,^^ had to 
cast the first stones, took off the'r "garments and laid 
them at the feet of a young fanatic named Saul, or Paul, 
who was thinking with secret joy of the merits which 
he was acquiring in participating in the death of a 
blasphemer.^^ 

In all this there was a literal observance of the pre- 
scriptions of Deuteronomy, Chap. 13. But looked at 



us 



THE APOSTLES. 



from the point of view of the civil law, this tamultiious 
execution, accomplished without the concurrence of the 
Romans, was not regular.^^ In the case of Jesus, we have 
seen that the ratification of the Procurator w^as needed. 
Perhaps his ratification was obtained in Stephens' case, 
and his execution may not have followed quite so closel v 
upon his sentence as the narrator of the Acts would have 
It. Possibly, liowever, the Roman authority was then 
somewhat relaxed in Judea. Pilate had just been sus- 
pended from his functions, or was on the point of being 
so. The cause of this disgrace was simply the too great 
firmness he had shown in his administration. Jewish 
fanaticism had rendered life unbearable to him. Very 
likely he was tired of refusing these madmen the violence 
they demanded of him, and the proud family of Hanan 
had come to have no hunger any need of permission in 
order to pronounce sentence of death. Lucius Vitcllius 
(the father of him who was emperor) was then imperial 
legate of Syria. He sought to win the good graces of 
the population ; and he had the pontifical vestments which, 
since the time of Herod the Great, had been deposited in 
the town of Antonia, returned to the Jews.^^ Far from 
sustaining^ Pilate in his acts of riu^or, he <2fave ear to the 
complaints of the native citizens, and sent Pilate back to 
Rome to reply to the accusations of his subordinates 
(beginning of the year 36). The principal grievance of 
the latter was that the Procurator would not lend him- 
self with sufficient complaisance to their desires — intole- 
rant desires.^^ Yitellius replaced him provisionally by 
his friend Marcellus, who was no doubt more careful not 
to displease the Jews, and consequently more ready to 
indulge them with religious murders. The death of Ti- 



THE APOSTLES. 



119 



bcrius (I6th March in the year 37) only encouraged Yi- 
tellius in his policj^ The two first years of the reign ol' 
Caligula were an epoch of general enfeeblenient of tlie 
Eoman authority in Syria. The policy of this prince, 
before he lost his wife, was to restore to the people of 
the East their autontrny and native cliiefs. Tlius he es* 
tablished the kingdoms or jjrincipaMties of Antiochns, of 
Comagene, of Ilerod Agrippn, of Sohc^ym, of Cotys, of 
Polemon IT., and allowed that of Hareth to aggrandize 
itself When Pilate arrived at Rome, he found the new 
reign already begun. It is probable that Caligula de- 
cided against him, since he confided the govermn-mt of 
Jerusalem to a new functionary, Marcellus, who appears 
not to have excited on the part of tlie Jews the violent 
recriminations which overwhelmed the unfortunate Pi- 
late with embari'assinent and filled him witli chagrin. 

At any rate, the important remark is this : that at the 
epoch of which we are treating the persecutors of Chris- 
tianity were not Romans; they were f)rth()dox Jr'ws. 
The Romans preserved, in the midst of this fiiiaticism, a 
principle of toleranc e and of reason. If there is aiivthiug 
for which the impei'ial authority is to be reproached, it is 
for having been too weak, and not having cut short at 
the outset the civil consequences of a sangiiiuary law 
pronouncing the pain of death f )r religious off ;nces. But 
the Roman domination had not yet become a complete 
power, as it was at a later day ; it was a sort of |)rotecto- 
rate or suzerainty. Its complaisance was carried even to 
the extent of withholding the effigy of the Emperor from 
the coins struck under the procurators, in order not to 
shock Jewish ideas.^ Rome did not yet seek, at least 
not in the East, to impose on conquered peoples her 



150 



THE APOSTLES. 



laws, her gods, licr manners; she left them in their local 
practices outside the Roman law. Tlieir semi-independ- 
ence was but another sign of their inferiority^ The Im- 
perial power in the II=ist at this epoch pretty closely 
resembled the Turkish authority, and the government of 
the native populations that of the Rajahs. The idea of 
equal rights and equal guarantees for all did not exist. 
Each provincial group had its own jurisdiction, as at this 
day the various Christian churches and the Jews in the 
Ottoman Einpire. A few years ago, in Turkey, the 
patriarchs of the various communities of Rajahs, provided 
they were on good terms with the Porte, were S(;vereign 
in regard to their subordinates, and could pronounce 
against them the most cruel punishments. 

As the period of the death oT Stephen may fluctuate 
between the years 36, 37, and 38, we do not know 
"whether Caiphas ought to bear the responsibihty of it. 
Caiphas v/as deposed by Lucius Vitellius in the year 
36, shortly after Pilate;^'* but the change was sliglit. 
He was succeeded by his brotlier-iii law, Jonathan, son 
of Ilanan. The latter in his turn was sncceeded by 
his brother Theophilus, son of iJanan,^^ who kept the 
Pontificate in the house of Ilanan till the year 42. 
Hanan was still alive, and possessor of t!ie real power 
maintained in his funily — the principles of pride, of 
severity, of h:itred to innovators, wdiich were in a manner 
hereditary in it. 

The death of Stephen produced a great impression. 
The converts solemnized his funeral in the midst of 
tears and groans.^'' The separation between the new 
sectaries and Judaism was not jtit absolute. The 
proselytes and the Hellenists, less strict in the matter 



THE APOSTLES. 



of orthodoxy than the pure Jews, felt that tliej oiiglit 
to render public homage to a man wlio had been an 
honor to their body, and whose peculiar opinions had 
not shut him out from the pale of the law. 

Thus dawned the era of Christian martyrs. Martyr- 
dom was not a thing entirely new. To say nothing ol 
John Baptist and of Jesus, Judaism, at the epoch of 
Antiochus Epiphanns, had had its witnesses faithful 
unto the death. But the series of brave victims which 
opens with St. Stephen has exercised a peculiar influ- 
ence upon the history of the human mind. It intro- 
duced into the western world an element which was 
wanting to it, absolute and exclusive Faith — tliis idea, 
that there is but one good and true religion. In this 
sense, the martyrs began the era of intolerance. It 
may be said, with great probability, that any one who 
i>:ives his life foi" his faith would be intolerant if he were 
master. Christianity, after it had passed through three 
centuries of persecutions and became in its turn domi- 
nant, was more persecuting than any religion had ever 
been. When we have poured out our own blood for a 
cause, we are but too stnvngly led to shed the blood 
ot others for the conservation of the treasure vre have 
won. 

The murder of Stephen was not, moreover, an iso- 
lated fact. Taking advantage of the weakness of the 
Koman functionaries, the Jews brought a real perse- 
cution^'' to bear <Iown upon the Ciiurch. It seems that 
the vexations pressed hardest upon the Hellenists and 
the proselytes whose free tendencies enraged the ortho- 
dox. The Church of Jerusalem, ah'eady so strongly 
organized, was obliged to disper.-^e. The apostles, ac- 



152 



THE APOSTLKS. 



cording to a principle wliich seems to liave taken s'long 
hold of their minds,^^ did not leave the city. It was 
probably so with all the purely Jewish group, with 
those who were called the "Hebrews.'*^ But the 
great community, with its meals in common, its diaconal 
services, its varied exercises, ceased thenceforth, and 
was never again reconstructed upon its first model. It 
had lasted three or four years. It was for nascent 
Christianity an unequalled good fortune that its first 
attempts at association, essentially communist, were so 
soon broken up. Attempts of tiiis kind engender 
abnses so shocking, that communist establishments are 
condemned to crumble away in a very short time,^^ or 
very soon to ignore the principle on which they are 
created.^^ Thanks to the persecution of the year 37, 
the cenobitic Church of Jerusalem was saved from tlie 
test of time. It fell in its flower, befoi-e intei'ior diffi- 
culties had undermined it. It remained like a splendid 
dream, the memory of which animated in their life of 
trial all those who had formed part of it, like an ideal 
to which Christianity will incessantly aspire to return, 
witliout ever succeeding. Those who know what an 
inestimable treasure f >r the members still existing of 
the St. Simonian Chui-ch is the nieinory of Menilmon- 
tant, what friendship it creates between them, what 
joy gleams from their eyes as they speak of it, will 
comprehend the powerful link established between the 
new brethren by the fact of having loved and then suf- 
fered together. Great lives have nearly always to 
remember a few months during which they felt God — 
months wdiich, though existing only in memory, delight 
all the after years of their lives. 



THE APOSTLSS. 103 

Tli3 leadii'g part, in the persecution we Irive just 
recounted, was played by that young Sanl wliom we 
liave ah'cady found conrribntinij, as fai" as in liini lay, to 
the murder of Stephen. This fnrious man, furnished with 
a permission from the priests, entered into houses sus- 
pected of concealing Christians, took violent hold of 
men and women, and dragged them into prison or be- 
fore the tribunals.^ Saul prided himself on there being 
no one of his generation so zealous as himself for the tra- 
ditions.^ Often, it is true, the mildness, the resignation 
of his victims astonished him ; he experienced a sort 
of remorse; lie imagined hearing these pious women, 
hoping for the Kinglom of Grod, whom he had thrown 
into prison, say to him during the nigiit, with a gentle 
voice : " Why persecutest thou us ? " The blood of 
Stephen, by which he was al.n )3t literally stained, 
sometimes disturbed liis vision. Many things he had 
heard said of Jesu- went to his heai-t. This superhu- 
man being, in his ethereal life, whence he sometimes 
issued to reveal himself in short apparitions, haunted 
him like a spectre. But Saul repulsed such thouglits 
with horror ; he confirmed himself with a sort of frenzy 
in the faith of his traditions, and he was dreaming of 
new cruelties against tliose who attacked them. His 
name had become the terror of the faithful ; t!ie fiercest 
outi'ages, the most sanguinary perfidies, were dreaded 
at his hands.^ 

7* 



CHAPTER IX. 



i^\R&T MISSIONS. I'HILIP TWE DEACON, 

IS."^ jH-\,iecati(>yi of the year 37 had for its result, as 
nlvvftjr^ happens, ihe exi:):insioii of the docti'ine it was 
wished to arrest. Until then the Cliristian preaching 
had scarcely extended heyond Jerusalem ; no niission 
had been undertaker., inclosed within its lofty hut 
narrow communion, the vi.-other Church had not radi- 
ated around itself nor formed any branches. The dis- 
persion of the little supper-table scattered the good seed 
to the foar w.hids. The merAoers of the Church of 
Jerusalem, violently driven fro!ii their quarters, spread 
themselves thtOL\Lhout J udea and Suuiaria,' and preached 
(>\"-r\- where the khkgdc^m of God. ^fha deacons in par- 
ticuhir, diseng.-Aged from their a(hninisLrc^tive functions 
by the nun of the OiMamunity, became excellent evan- 
gelists. They were the active young eknjent of the 
sect, in opposition to \;he somewhat heavy elenef}t con- 
stituted by the apostles ^lA the " llebi-ews." Cue single 
circumstance, that of languaviv;, wouM have sul^ioed to 
create in these latter an inferiority )n respect to preach- 
ing. They spoke, at least ao their habitual tongue, a 
dialect which the Jews themselves? did not use at a 
leagues distance trom Jei'usalem. Jt was to the Rellen 
ists that fell all the honor of the grard conquest, the re- 
cital of which is henceforth to be our \)vinv;ipal object. 
The theatre of the first oi' these missions, which wa% 



THE APOSTLES. 



135 



destined soon to embrace all ih~i b.isiii of tlie Mediterra- 
nean, was the region round about Jei'usalem, within a 
circle of two or three days' journey, l^hilip the Dea- 
con ^ - w;is the hero of this first holy expedition, lie 
evaniJ^elized Sa,inaria with •j-VKOxt success. The S unaritans 
were schismatics; but the young s -ct, after the exampl*^ 
of their Master, was less susceptible than t!ic rigorous 
Jews upon questions of orthod(jxy. Jesus, it w\as said, 
li;!d sliown Himself on different occasions not altogether 
unfavDrable to the Samaritans.^ 

Philip appears to hav^e been one of the apostolical 
men most preoccupied with theurgy."* The accounts 
which relate to him carry us into a strnigc and fantastic 
world. It is by prodigies that are exr)lained the conver- 
sions which he made among the Simiritans, and in par- 
ticular at Sebaste, their ca|)itril. This countr}^ was 
itself filled with superstitious iiijas about magic. In the 
year 36, that is to say tw^o or three years before the ar- 
i"ival of the Christian prjacliers, a fanatic had excited 
quite a serious emotion among the Samaritansby preaching 
the necessity of returning to primitive Mosaism, of 
wdiich he pretended to have f )Uii I the s icrod utensils.^ 
A certain Simon, of the village of Gritta, or Gitton,^ who 
.afterwards rose to a great repatation, b 'gan about tliat 
time to make himself known by his wonderful opera- 
tions.^ It is painful to see the Gos[);jl finding a prepara- 
tion and a support in su(;h chimeras. Quite a large 
multitude were baptiz:^d in the name of Jesus. Philip 
liad the power of baptizing, b it not that of conferring 
t!ie Holy Ghost. Tliis privilege was reserved to the 
apostles. When the tidings came to Jjru^alein of the 
formation of a group of believers at Sib.iste, it was re- 



156 



THE APOSTLES. 



solved to send Peter and John to complete their initia- 
tion. The two apostles came, laid their hands upon 
the new converts, prayed over their heads; the latter 
were immediately endowed with marvellous powers at- 
tached to the confer] ing of the Ploly Ghost. Miracles, - 
prophecy, all the phenomena of illuminism, were pro- 
duced, and the Church of Sebaste had nothing on this 
score to envy that of Jerusalem.^ 

If we are to believe tradition about it, Simon of Git- 
ton was thenceforth in relations with the Christians. 
Converted according to their reports by the preaching 
and the miracles of Philip, he was baptized and attached 
himself to this evangelist. Then, when the apostles 
Peter and John had come, and he saw the supernatural 
powers procured by the laying on of hands, he came, it 
is said, to off^r them money in order that they should 
give him also the faculty of conferring the Holy Ghost. 
Peter then made him this admirable reply : " Thy money 
perish with thee, because thou hast thought that tne gift 
of God may bebouglit! Thou hast neither p.irt nor lot 
in this matter, for thy heart is not right in the sight of 
God:'' 

Whether these woi'ds were pronounced or not, they 
seem to trace exactly the situation of Simon in regard 
to the nascent sect. We shall see, in fact, that accord- 
ing to all appearances, Simon of Gitton was the chief 
of a religious movement parallel to that of Christianity, 
one which may be regarded as a sort of Samaritan 
counterfeit of the work of Jesus. Had Simon already 
l)egun to dogmatize and to work wonders when Philip 
arrived at Sebaste ? Did he thenceforward enter into 
relations with the Christian Church ? Is there any 



THE APOSTLES. 



157 



reality in tlie anecdote which makes of liim the father 
of all "simony?" Mast we admit that the W(M-hl on(5 
day saw face to face two thiaumatargists, one a charh-itan 
and the other the "corner-stone," whicli became the foun- 
dation of the faith of hnmanity? Was a conjuror able 
to balance himself against the destinies of Christianity 2 
We know not, for want of documents; for the account 
of the Acts is here of feeble authority ; and from the 
first century Simon became for the Christian Church a 
subject of legends. In history the general idea alone 
is pure. It would be unjust to dwell on anything we 
may see to be shocked at in this sad page of the origin 
of Christianity. For vulgar hearers the miracle proves 
the doctrine ; f )r us the doctrine causes the miracle to 
be forgotten. When a belief has consoled and amelio- 
rated humanity, it is excusaljle f)r having employed 
proofs proportioned to the weakness of the public whom 
it addressed. But when one has proved error by error, 
what excuse is there to allege? Tiiis is not a condem- 
nation we here pronounce against Simon of Gitton. 
We shall have to explain further on this doctrine, and 
the part he had to play, which only m ide itself clear 
under the reign of Claudius.*^ It is necessai-y only to 
remark here, that an important principle seems to have 
been introduced through him into the Christian the- 
urcry. Obliged to admit that impostors also worked 
miracles, orthodox theology attributed these miracles 
to the devil. In order to retain some demonstrative 
value in prodigies, rules had to be imagined for distin- 
guishing true from false miracles. Orthodoxy descended 
for this purpose to. an order of ideas exceedingly puerile. 
Peter and John, after having confirmed the Church 



158 



THE APOSTLES. 



of Sehaste, set 3ut again for Jerusalem, on their I'eti in 
evangelizing the vilhiges of the country of the Sannii-i- 
tans.'- Philip the Deacon continued his evangelizing 
travels, bending his steps towards the south, towards 
the ancient country of the Philistines.^^ This countiy, 
since the advent of the Maccabees, had received a 
strong infusion of the Jewish element;'* although 
Judaism was still by no means domiiumt there. During 
this journey Philip accomplished a conversion which 
made some noise, and which was mnch talked about on 
account of a particular circumstance. One day as he 
was going along the road fiv>m Jerusalem to Gaza, quire 
a desei'ted road,'^ he met a I'ich travellei", evidently a 
foreigner, for he was riding in a chariot, a mode of 
locomotion which was at all times almost unknown to 
the inhal)itants of Syria and Palestine. He was return- 
ing tV(Mn Jei-usalem, and gravely seated, he was reading 
th(^ Bible aloud, according to a custom then quite 
common.^'' Philip, wlu) thought that in everything his 
actions were gui<led by an ins[)iration from on high, 
feir liimself drawn towai'ds his chai'iot. lie placed 
himself alongside of it, and quietly entered into con- 
versation wiih the opulent pei'sonage, oti'ering to explain 
to him the passages which he did not understand. 
This was a tine occasion for the evangelist to develop 
the Christian thesis u])on the figures of the Old Testa- 
ment, lie proved that in the proj>hetic books everyiliing 
related to Jesus; that Jesus was the solution of the great 
cjigma ; tliat it was of Ilini in particular that the All- 
Si'eiiig had spoken in this fine passage: He was led 
as a sheep to the slaughter; as a lainb that is dumb 
before its shearer.s, he opened not his mouth. The 



THE APOSTLES. 



159 



traveHer believed Iiitii, ainl at the tii'st water tliat tli y 
met, "Behold, here is water,'' said lie, "why could I 
not be baptized ? " The cliariot was stopped ; Philip 
and the trav^eller descended into the water, and the 
latter was baptized. 

ISTow tlie traveller was a ])owerfnl personage. He 
was a eunuch of the Candace of Ethiopia, her Minister 
of Finance, and guardian of her treasures, who had 
coine to worship at Jerusalem, and was now returning to 
Xapat I*- hy w;iy of Egypt. Candace, or Cawlaice, was the 
tirle of feminine royaliy in Erhiopia towards the period 
in which we now are.'' Judaism had conserpien' ly ])e- 
ne^rated in^o Xuhia an;l Abyss'ni --^^^ M my natives were 
converte 1, or at fat c "unrcd a no ig th S3 ]:>roselytes 
Avho, without being circumcised, adoi-ed the one only 
God.2' 'pjjg eunuch was perha[)S of this latter class, a 
simple, pious pagan, like the centurion Cornelius, who 
will shortly figure in this history. It is impossible in 
au}^ case to suppose that he was comph'tely initiated 
into Judaism.^ After this we hear nothing more said 
about the eunuch. But Pliilip relaled the incident, and 
further on mucii importance was attached to it. When 
the question of the admission of pagans into the Chris- 
tian Church became the leading business, there was 
found here a precedent of gi-eat weight. Philip was 
deemed to have acted in all this aff.iir by Divine inspi- 
ration.2'5 This baptism, given by order of tlie Holy 
Ghost, to a man scarcely a Jew, notoriously uncircum- 
cised, who had believed in Christianity only for a few 
hours, had an eminent dogmatic value. It was an ar- 
gument for those who tliought that the doors of the new 
Chureli ought to be open to all.^^ 



THE APOSTT.rS. 



Pliilip after this adventure, mixle his appearance at 
A?hd()(l, or Azote. Sucli was the state of artless enthu- 
siasm in wliich these niissionaiMcs lived, that at each 
step the}^ believed they heard voices from Heaven and 
received directions from the Spirit.^^ Each of their 
steps seemed to them regulated by a superior force ; 
and when they went from one city to another, they 
thought they were obeying a supernatui-al inspi- 
ration. Sometimes they imagined they made aerial 
voyages. Philip was in this r€S])ect one of the most 
exalted. It was on the indication of an angel, as he 
believed, that he came from Samaria to the ])lace 
where he met the eunuch ; after the ba])tism of the 
latter, he was persuaded that the Spii-it lifted him up 
and carried him direct to Azote.^^ 

Azote and the Gaza road were the limit of the first 
Gospel preaching towards the south. Beyond were 
the desert and the nomadic life upon which Chris- 
tianity has ever taken but very slight liold. From 
Azote. Philip the Deacon hui-ried towards the north, 
and evangelized all the coast as fai" as Cesai-ea. Per- 
haps the Churches of Jopp-i and of Lydda, which we 
shall soon find flourishing,^^ were founded by him. 
At Cesarea he settled and founded an iniportant 
churcli.^^ We shall meet him there again twenty 
years later.^^ Cesarea was a new city, and the most 
rousiderable in Judea.^ It had been built on the site 
?i' a Sidonian fortress called " Abdastarte's or Strato'a 
Tower," by Herod the Great, who gave to it, in honor 
of Augustus, the name wliich its ruins bear even to 
this day. Cesarea was by much the best port in all 
Palestine, and tended from day to day to become its 



THE APOSTLES. 



161 



(.apital. Tired of living at Jerusalem, tlie Procurators 
of Judea were soon going to make it their habitual resi- 
dence.^^ It was peopled chiefly by pagans the Jews, 
liowever, were quite numerous there, and severe disputes 
often took place between the two classes of tlie popu 
lation.^ The Greek language was alone spoken there, 
and the Jev/s themselves had come to recite certain 
parts of their liturgy in Greek.^ The austere Rabbis 
of Jerusalem looked upon Cesarea as a profane and 
dangerous abode, in which one became very nearly a 
pagan.'^ From all the reasons which have just been 
cited, this city will be of much impi)rtance in the 
sequel of our history. It was in a manner the port of 
Christianity, the point by which tlie Church of Jeru- 
salem communicated v>dth all the Mediterranean. 

Many other missions, the history of which is un- 
known to us, were conducted side by si^le with that of 
Philip.^ The very rapidity with which this first 
preaching was acconqilished was the cause of its succes>. 
l\\ the year 38, live years after the death of Jesus, and 
one ])erhaps 'after the death of Stephen, all Palestine 
on the hio^her side of Jordan had heard tlie i^lad tidin<^'s 
from the mouth of missionaries sent out from Jerusa- 
lem. G:ililee, on its side, kept the holy seed and pro- 
bably spread it around, although we know nothing of 
any missions issuing from this country. Perhaps the 
city of Damascus, which, from the epoch at which we 
have arrived, also had its Christians,^^ received the 
faith from Galilean preachers. 



CHAPTER X. 



CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. 

But the year 88 is marked in the history of the nascent 
Church by a new and important conquest. It was during 
that year' that we may safely place the conversion of that 
saint whom we saw a participant in the stoning of 
Ste{,)iien, and a principal agent in the persecution of 87, 
and who now, by a mysterious act of grace, becomes the 
most ardent of the disci [)les of Jesus. 

Saul was born at Tarsus, in Cilicia,^ in the year 10 or 
12 of our era.^ According to the manner of lhat d;iy, his 
name was Latinized into that of Paul;'^ yet Ije did not re- 
gularly adopt this last name until he became the apostle 
of the Gentiles.^ Paul was of the purest Jewish blotKl.*' 
His family, probably originally from the town of Gischala, 
in Galilee,'^ professed to belong to the tribe of Benjamin f 
and his father enjoyed the title of Roman citizen,'* no 
doubt inheiited from ancestors who had obtained tliat 
honor either tlirough purchase or through services ren- 
dered to the state. Perhaps his grandfather had obtained 
it for aid given to Pompty daring the Ro:nan conqn-'st 
(68 B C). His family, like most of the old antl sniid 
Jewish bouses, belonged to the sect of Pharisees.^" J*aid 
was reared according to the strictest pi-inciples of this 
sect,^^ and though he subsequently repudiated its narrow 
dogmas, he al\vays retained its asperity, its exaltation, 
and its ardent faith. 



THE APOSTLES. 



163 



During the epoch of Augustus, Tarsus was a very 
flourishing city. The population, though chiefly of tlie 
Greek and Aramaic races, included, as was common in 
all the commercial towns, a large number of J^'ws. 
The taste for letters and the sciences was a marked ch-i- 
racteristic of the place; and no city in the world, not even 
excepting Athens and Alexandria, was so rich in scienti- 
fic institutions and schools.^^ Tiie number of learned 
men which Tarsus produced, or who pursued their studies 
there, was trulj^ extraordinary;^"^ but it sh(uild not there- 
fore be imcHgincd that Paul received a careful Greek edu- 
cation. The Jews nirely frequented the institutions of 
secular instruction.'^ The most celebrated schools of 
Tarsus were those of rhetoric, where the Greek classics 
received the first attention. It is hardly probable that a 
man who had taken even elementary lessons in grammar 
and rhetoric would have written in the incorrect non- 
Ilellenistic style of the Epistles of St. Paul. He talked 
habitually and fluently in Greek, and he wrote or rather 
dictated^^ in that language; but his Greek was that of 
the Hellenistic Jews, a Greek replete with Hebraisms and 
Syriacisms, scarcely intelligible to a lettei'ed man of that 
pf^riod, and which can only be accounted for by his Syriac 
turn of mind. He himself recognised the common and 
defective character of his stylc.^^ Whenever it was possi- 
ble he spoke Hebrew — that is to say, the Syro-Chaldaic 
of his time.2^ It was in this hinguage that he thought, 
and it was in this language that he was addressed by the 
mysterious voice on the road to Damascus.^^ 

Nor did his doctrine show any direct adaptation made 
from Greek philosophy. The verse quoted from the 
Thais of Menander, that occurs in his writings, is one 



164 



THE APC'STLES. 



of those versified proverbs which were familiar to tha 
public, and could easilj^ have been quoted by one who 
had not read the original. Two other quotations — ■ 
one from Epimenides, the other from Aratus — -which 
appear under his name,^-^ altlK)ugh it is not certain tliat 
he used them, may also be explained as having been 
bori'owed at second-hand.^^ The literary training of 
Paul was ahiTost exclusively Jewish,^^ and it is in the 
Talmud rather than in the Greek classics that the analogies 
of his ideas must be sought. A few general ideas of 
wide-spread philosophy, which one could learn without 
opening a single book of the philosoplierSj^"' alone reached 
him. His manner of reasoning was very curious. lie 
certainly knew nothing of the peripatetic logic. His 
syllogism was not at all that of Aristotle; but on the con- 
trary his dialectics greatly resembled those of the Talmud. 
Paul, as a general thing, was influenced by w^ords ratlier 
than by ideas. When a word took possession of his mind it 
suggested a train of thought singuhii'ly iri'elevant to the 
sulyect in question. Ills transitions were sudden, his 
developments interrupted, his conclusions frequently sus- 
pended. Never was a writer more unequal. One may 
seek in vain throughout the realm of literature f)r a phe- 
nomenon as bizarre as that of a sublime passage like the 
thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians 
by the side of feeble arguments, laborious repetitions, anil 
fastidious subtleties. 

Ilis fatlier early intended that he should be a Rabbi : 
but, according to the general custom,^'' gave him a trade, 
Paul was an upholsterer, or rather a manufacturer of 
the heavy cloths of Cilicia, which were called C'dlcmm 
At various times he worked at this trade,^^ for he had no 



THE APOSTLES. 



patrimonial fortune. It seems quite certain that he had 
a sister whose son lived at Jerusalem.-^'^ In regard to a 
brother^ and other relatives,^^ who it is said had em- 
braced Christianity, the indications are very vague and 
uncertain. Eefinement of manners being, according to 
some modern ideas, in direct relation to personal wealth, 
it might be imagined from what has just been said, that 
IViul was a man of the people, badly educated and with- 
out dignity. This opinion w^ould, however, be thorough- 
ly erroneous. His politeness was often extreme, and his 
manners were exquisite. Notwithstanding the defects in 
his style, his letters show that he was a man of rare 
intelligence,^ who formed for his lofty sentiments ex- 
pressions of rare felicity ; and no correspondence exhibits 
more careful attentions, finer sliades of meaning, and 
more amiable hesitancies and timidity. One or two of 
his pleasantries shock us.^ But what animation ! What 
a wealth of charming sayings ! AYhat simplicity ! It is 
easy to see that his character, at the times when his pas- 
sions do not make him irascible and fierce, is that of a 
polite, earnest, and affectionate man, sometimes suscepti- 
ble, and a little jealous. Inferior as such men are before 
the general })ublic,^^ they possess within small sects im- 
mense advantages, through the attachments they inspire, 
through their practical aptitude, and through their skill 
in arranging difficult matters. 

Paul w^as small in size, and his personal appearance 
did not correspond wuth the greatness of his soul. He 
was ugly, stout, short, and stooping, and his broad 
shoulders awkwardly sustained a little bald head. His 
sallow countenance was half hidden in a thick beard; 
his nose was aquiline, his eyes piercing, and his eye- 



166 



THE APOSTLES. 



brows heavy^ and joined across his foreliead. 'Noj 
was there anything imposing in his speecli,^^ for liis 
titnid and embarrassed air gave bnt a poor idea of his 
eh)qnence.^ He shrewdly, liowever, aiiniitted his exte- 
rior defects, and even drew advantage therefrom.^ The 
Jewish race possesses the pecnliarity of at the same 
time presenting types of the greatest beauty, and the 
mr)st tliorongh ugliness ; but this Jewir-h ugliness is 
something quite apart by itself. S*)nie of the strange 
visages which at first excite a smile, assume, when 
lighted up b}^ emotion, a sort of deep brilliancy and 
grandeur. 

The temperament of Paul was not less singular than 
his exterior. His constitution was not health3\ though 
at the same time its endurance was pi'oved by the way 
in which he supported an existence full of fatigues and 
sufferings. He makes incessant allusions to his bodily 
weakness. He speaks of himself as a man sick and 
bruised, timid, without prestige, without any of those 
personal advantages calculated to make an effect, and 
altogether so uninviting that it was surprising that he 
did not repel people.'*^ Besides this, he hints with mys- 
tery at a secret trial, " a thorn in the flesh," which he 
compares to a messenger of Satan sent to buffet him, 
" lest he should be exalted above measure.''''^ Thrice he 
besought the Lord to deliver him, and thrice the Lord 
replied, M}^ grace is suflicient for thee." This was 
apparently some bodily infirmity ; for it is not possible 
to suppose that he refers to the attractions of carnal 
delights, since he himself informs us elsewhere that he 
was insensible to them.^ It appears that he was never 
married:*^ the entire coldness of his temperament, the 



THE APOSTLES. 



167 



C'inseqnence of the unequalled ardor of liis brain, 
showed itself throughout his life, and he boasts of it 
wi;h an assurance savoring, perhaps, of aiieetationj 
and which, certainly, seems to ns rather unpleasant.'*^ 

lie came to Jerusalem,^^ it is said, at an early age, and 
entered the school of Gamaliel the Elder.^^ This G-ama- 
liel was the most enlightened man in Jerusalem. As the 
name of Pharisee was applied to every prominent Jew 
who was not of a priestly f unily, G-amaliel passed for a 
member of that sect. Yet he bad none of its narrow and 
exclusive spirit, and was a liberal, intelligent man, tole- 
rant of the heathen, and acquainted with Greek. Per- 
haps, indeed, the large ideas professed by Paul after he 
received Christianity, were a reminiscence of the teach- 
ings of his first master; it must, however, be admitted 
that at first he did not learn much moderation from him. 
An extreme fanaticism was then prevalent in Jerusalem. 
Paul was the leader of a young and rigorous Pharisee 
party, most warmly attached to the national traditions of 
the past."^^ Tie did not know Jesus,"^ nor was he present 
at the bloody scene of Golgotha ; bat we have seen him 
take an active part in the murder of Stephen, and among 
the foremost (jf the persecutors of the Church. He breathed 
only threatenings and slaaghttT, and 'furiously passed 
through Jerusalem bearing a mandate which authorized 
and legalized all his brutalities. He went from syna- 
gogue to synagogue, forcing the more timid to deny the 
name of Jesus, and subjecting others to scourging or 
imprisonment.^^ When the Church of Jerusalem was 
dispersed, his persecutions extended to the neighboring 
cities and exasperated by the progress of the new faith, 
and having learned that there was a group of the faithful 



168 



THE APOSTLES. 



Jit Damascus, he obtainc^d from tlie high-], riest Tlieopliilns, 
son of Hanan,^^ letters to the synagogue of that city, 
which conferred on him the power of arresting all evil- 
thinking persons, and of bringing them bound in cords to 
Jerusalem.^^ 

The disarrangement of Eoman authority in Judea 
explains these arbitrary vexations. The half mad Cali- 
gula was in power, and the administrative service 
was everywhere disturbed.. Fanaticism had gained all 
tliat the civil power liad lost. After the dismissal of 
Pilate, and the concessions made to the natives by 
Lucius Vitellius, the country was allowed to govern 
itself accordins: to its own laws. A thousand local 
tyrannies profited by the weakness of the decaying 
power. Damascus had just passed into the hands of 
Hartat, or Ilareth, whose capital was at Petra.-''^ This bold 
and pow^erful prince, after having beaten Herod Antipas, 
and withstood the Roman forces commanded by the im- 
perial legate Lucius Vitellius, had been marvellously aided 
by fortune. The news of the death of Tiberius had sud- 
denly arrested the ma^ch of Vitellius.^'* Hareth seized 
Damascus, and established there an ethnarch or gover- 
nor.^ Tlie Jews at that time were a numerous })arty at 
Damascus, where they carried on an extensive system of 
proselytizing, especially among the females.^ It was 
deemed advisable to make them contented ; the best 
method of doing so was to allow concessions to their 
autonomy, and every concession was simply a permission 
to commit further religious violences.^' To punish and' 
even kill those who did not think as they did, was their 
idea of independence and liberty. Paul, in leaving 
Jerusalem, followed without doubt the usual road, and 



THE APOSTLKS. 



1G9 



crossed the Jordan at the " Bridge of the Daughters of 
Jacob." His mental excitement was at its greatest 
height, and he was alternately troubled and depressed. 
Passion is not a rule of faith. The passionate man flies 
from one extreme creed to another, but always retains 
the same impetuosity. Now, like all strong minds, Paul 
quickly learned to love that which he had hated. Was 
he sur<\ after all, that he was not thwartino^ the desis^n 
of God? Perhaps he remembered the calm, just views 
of his master Gramaliel.^^ Often these ardent souls ex- 
perience terrible revulsions. He felt the charms of those 
wdiom he had tortured,^^ and the better he knew these 
excellent sectarians the better he liked them ; and than 
their persecutor none had greater opportunities of know- 
ing them well. At times he saw the sweet face of the 
Master who had inspired Ilis disciples with so much pa- 
tience, regarding him with an air of pity and tender 
reproach. lie was also much impressed by the accounts 
of the apparitions of Jesus, d^'scribing him as an aerial 
being ; for at the epochs and in the countries when and 
where there is a tendency to the marvellous, miraculous 
recitals influence equally each opposing party. The 
Mahommedans, for iiiStance, were afraid of the miracles 
of Elias; and like the Christians, invoked supernatural 
cures in the names of St. George and St. Anthony. Having 
crossed Ithuria, and while in the great plain of Damascus, 
Paul, with several companions, all journeying on foot,''^' 
approached the city, and had probably already reached 
the beautiful gardens which surround it. The time was 
mid- day .^^ 

The road from Jerusalem to Damascus has in nown'se 
changed. It is that one which, leaving Damascus in a 

8 



170 



THE APOSTLES. 



Boutli-easterly direction, crosses the beautiful plain 
watered bvtlie streams flowing into the Abana and Pluii- 
par, and npon which are now marshalled the villages of 
Dareja, Kard-iab, and Sasa. The exact locality of which 
we speak, and which was the scene of one of the must 
i iiportant facts in the history of humanity, could not 
have been beyond Kankab (four hours from Damas- 
cus).*^2 It is even probable that the point in question 
was much nearer the city, at about Dareya (an hour 
and a half from Damascus), or between Dareya and 
Meidan.^ The great city hi)^ before Paul, and the out- 
lines of several of its edifices could be dimly traced 
beyond the thick foliage ; behind him towered the ma- 
jestic dome of Ilermon, with its furrows of snow, 
making it resemble the bald head of an old man ; upon 
Ids right were the Ilauran, the two little parallel 
chains which inclose the lower course of the Pharpar,^ 
and the tumuli of the region of the lakes; and upon 
his left were the outer spurs of the Anti-Libanus 
stretching out to join Mt. Ilermon. The impression 
produced by these richly cultivated fields, by these 
beautiful orchards, separated the one from the other 
by trenches and laden with the most delicious fruits, 
is that of peace and happiness. Let one imagine to 
himself a shady road passing through the rich soil 
crossed at intervals by canals for irrigation, bordered 
by declivities and winding through forests of olives, 
walnuts, apricots, and prunes, these trees draped by 
graceful festoons of vines, and there will be presented 
to the mind the image of the scene of that remarkable 
event which has exerted so wide an influence npon the 
faith of the w^orld. 



THE APOSTLES. 



171 



In these environs of Damascas'^-^ yon conld scarcely 
believe yonrself in the East ; and above all, after leav- 
ing the arid and burning regions of the Ganlonitide 
and of Ithuria, it is joy indeed to meet once more the 
"ivorks of man and the blessings of Heaven. From the 
most remote antiquity until the present day there has 
been but one name for this zone, which surrounds 
Damascus with freshness and health, and that name is 
the "Paradise of God." 

It' Paul there met with terrible visions, it was because 
he carried them in his heart. Every step in his jour- 
ney towards Damascus awaked in him afflicting per- 
plexities. The odious part of executioner, which he 
was about to perform, became insupportable. The 
houses which he just saw through the trees, were per- 
haps those of his victims. This thought beset him and 
delayed his steps ; he did not wish to advance ; he 
Beemed to be resisting a mysterious influence which 
pressed him back.^ The fatigue of the journey,*'^ 
joined to this preoccupation of tlie mind, overwhelmed 
him. He had, it w^ouhl seem, inflamed eyes,^^ probably 
the beginning of ophthalmia. In these prolonged jour- 
neys, the last Iiours are the most dangerous. All the 
debilitating canses of the days just past accumulate, 
the nerves relax their power, and reaction sets in. Per- 
haps, also, the sudden passage from the sun-smitten 
plain to the cool shades of the gardens lieightened his 
snflering condition^^ and seriously excited the fanatical 
traveller. Dangerous fevers, accompanied by delirium, 
are always sudden in these latitudes, and in a few 
minutes the victim is prostrated as by a thunder-stroke. 
When the crisis is over, the sufi*erer retains oidy the 



172 



THE APOSTLES. 



iinprossion of a period of profound darkness, crossed 
at intervals by dashes of light or of images outlined 
against a dark background."'^ It is quite certain that a 
terrible stroke instantly deprived Paul of his remain- 
ing consciousness, and threw him senseless on the 
ground. 

It is impossible, with the accounts which we have had 
of this singular event,^^ to say whether any exterior 
fact led to the crisis to which Christianity owes its most 
ardent apostle. In such cases, moreover, the exterior 
fact is of but little importance. It was the state of St. 
Paul's mind, it was his remorse on his approach to the 
city where he was to commit the most signal of his mis- 
deeds, which were the true causes of his conversion.'^ I 
much prefer, for my part, the hypothesis of an affair 
personal to Paul, and experienced by him alone.'^^ Tiie 
incident, nevertheless, was not wdiolly unlike a sudden 
storm. The flanks of Mt. Hermon are the point of for- 
mation for thunder-showers unequalled in violence.^^ 
The most unimpressible people cannot observe without 
emotion these terrible showers of fire. It should be 
remembei-ed that in ancient times accidents from light- 
ning strokes were considered divine relations; that 
with the ideas regarding providential interference then 
prevalent, nothing was fortuitous ; and that every man 
was accustomed to view the natural phenomena around 
him as bearing a direct relation to himself individually. 
The Jews in particular always considered that thunder 
was the voice of God, and that lightning was the fire 
of God. Paul at this moment was in a state of lively 
excitement, and it was but natural that he should inter- 
pret as the voice of the storm the thoughts really pass- 



THE APOSTLES. 



175 



ing in Ills mind. That a deiirious fever, resnldiig from 
a suii-stroke or an attack of ophrhalmia, had suddenly 
seized him ; that a flash of lightning blinded hlni for a 
time ; that a peal of thunder had produced a cerebral 
commotion, temporaiily de[)rlvlng him of sight — nothing 
of this occurred to his mind. The recollections of the 
apostle on this point appeared to be considerably con- 
fused ; he was persuaded that the incident was super- 
natural, and this conviction would not permit him to 
entertain any clear consciousness of material circum- 
stances. Such cerebral commotions produce sometimes 
a sort of retroactive effect, and greatly perturb the re- 
collections of the moments immediately preceding the 
crisis.'^ Paul, moreover, elsewhere informs us himself 
that he was subject to visions;'^ and this circumstance, 
insignificant as it may be to others, is suliicient to show 
that for the time being he was demented. 

And what did he see, what did he hear, Avhile a prey 
to these hallucinations? He saw the countenance 
which had haunted him for several days ; he saw the 
phantc)m of which so much had been said. Ke saw 
Jesus Himself, who spoke to him in Hebrew, saying, 
"Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" liupetuous 
natures pass immediately from one extretne to the 
otlier.'^ For them thei'e exist solemn moments and 
crucial instants which change the course of a lifetime, 
and which colder natures never experience. Keflective 
men do not change, but are transformed ; while ardent 
men, on the contrary, change and are not transformed. 
Dogmatism is a shirt of Nessus which they cannot tear 
off. They must have a pretext for loving and hating. 
Only our western races have been able to produce 



171 



THE APOSTLES. 



those minds — large yet delicate, strong 3'et flexible — 
which no empty aJffiirmation can mislead, and no mo- 
mentary illusion can carry away. The East has never 
had men of this description. Instantly, the most thi-ill- 
ing thoughts rnshed upon the soul of Paul. Alive to 
the enormity of his conduct, he saw himself stained 
with the blood of Stephen, and this martj^r appeared 
to him as his father, his initiator into the new faith. 
Touched to the quick, his sentiments experienced a re- 
vulsion as thorough as it was sudden ; and yet all this 
was but a new order of fanaticism. Ilis sincerity and 
his need of an absolute faith prevented any middle 
course; and it was already clear that he would one day 
exhibit in the cause of Jesus the same flery zeal he had 
shown in persecuting Him. 

With the assistance of iiis companions, who led him 
by the hand,'^ Paul entered Damascus. His friends took 
him to the house of a certain Judas, who lived in the 
street called Straight, a grand colonnaded avenue over a 
mile long and a hundred feet broad, vvhicli crossed the city 
from east to west, and the line ol which yet forms, with a 
few deviations, the principal artery of Damaseus.'^^ The 
transport and excitement of his brain®*^ had not yet sub- 
sided. For three days Paul, a prey to fever, neither ate 
nor drank. It is easy to imagine what passed during this 
crisis in that brain maddened by violent disease. Men- 
tion was made in his hearing of the Christians of Da- 
mascus, but especially of a certain Ananias who appeared 
to be the chief of the community .^^ Paul had of en 
heai'd of the miraculous powers of new believers over 
maladies, and he became seized by the idea that the 
imposition of hands would cure him of his disease. His 



THE APOSTLES. 



17b 



eyes all this time were bighly inflamed, and in lii.s deli- 
rious imaginations^ he thought he saw AnaniriS enter ilie 
room and make a sign famihar to Christians. Fn)m tlint 
moment he was convinced that he should owe his re- 
covery to Ananias. The latter, informed of this, visited 
the sick man, spoke kindly, addressed him as his 
brother," and laid his hands upon his head ; and from 
that hour peace returned to the soul of Paul. lie be- 
lieved himself cured; and as his ailment had been purely 
nervous, he was so. Little crusts or scales, it is said, fell 
from his eyes he again partook of food and recovered 
his strength. 

Almost immediately after this he was baptized.** 
The doctrines of the Church were so simple that he had 
nothing new to learn, but was at once a Christian and a 
perfect one. And from whom else did he need instruc- 
tion ? Jesus Himself had appeared to him. lie too, like 
James and Peter, had had his vision of the risen Jesus, 
lie had learned everything by direct revelation. Here 
the fierce and unc(-)nquerable natui'e of Paul was ma le 
manifest. Smitttmdown on the public road, he was will- 
ing to submit, but only to Jesus, to that Jesus who had 
left the right hand of the Father to convert and instruct 
him. Such was the foundation of his faith; and such 
will be the starting-point of his claims. He will main- 
tain that it was by design that he did not go to Jerusalem 
immediately after his conversion, and place hiins(?lfin 
relations with those who had been apostles before him ; 
he will maintain that he has received a special revelation, 
for which he is imlebted to no human agency ; that, like 
the twelve, he is an apostle by divine institution and by 
dii'ect comuiissiou from Jesus; that his doctiine is the 



176 



THE APOSTLIS. 



true one, altliougli an angel from heaven should say to 
the contrary.^^ An immense danger finds entrance 
through this proud man into the little society of poor in 
spirit who until now had constituted Christianity. It 
will be a real miracle if his violence and his inflexible 
personality does not burst forth. But at the same time 
his boldness, his initiative force, his prompt decision, will 
be precious elements beside the narrow, timid, and inde 
cisive spirit of the saints of Jerusalem! Certainly, if 
Christianity had remained confined to these good people, 
shut up in a conventicle of elect, leading a communistir 
life, it would, like Essenism, have faded away, leaving 
scarcely a trace. It is tliis ungovernable Paul who win 
secure its success, and who at the risk of every peril will 
lift on high its holy banner. By the side of the obedient 
faithful, accepting his creed without questioning his su- 
perior, there will be a Christian disengaged from all 
authority who will believe only from personal conviction. 
Protestantism thus existed five years after the dviatli of 
Jesus, and St. Paul was its illustrious founder. J^'sus 
had no doubt anticipated such disciples ; and it was such 
as these who would most largely conii'ibute to the vitality 
of His work and insure its eternity. Violent natures 
inclined to proselytism, only change the object of their 
passion. As ardent for the new faith as he had been 
for the old, St. Paul, like Omar, in one day dropped his 
part of persecutor for that of apostle. He did nut return 
1o Jerusalem, where his position towards the twelve 
would have been peculiar and delicate. He tarried at 
Damascus and in the Ilauran^' for three years (38-41), 
preaching that Jesus was the Son of God.^ Herod 
Agrippa I. held "the sovereignty of the Hauran and the 



THE APOSTLES. 



ncigbboring countii.^s ; but bis power was at s n^^ral 
points supvTseclcd by that of a Nabatian king, Ilaratli. 
The decay of the Roman power in Syria had deHvered 
U) the ambitious Arab the great and rich city of Damas- 
cus, besides a pai-t of the countries beyond Jordan and 
Jlermon, then just opening to civilization.^^ Another 
emir, most probably Soheym,** a relative or lieutenant of 
Harath, had received from Caligula the command of 
Iihuria. It was in the midst of this great awakening of 
the Arab nation, upon a foreign soil where an energetic 
race manifested its fiery activity, that Paul first showed 
the brilliancy of his apostolic soul.''^ Perha[)s the ma- 
terial yet dazzling movement which revolutionized the 
country wa^ j)reju!licial to a theory and preaching wh:.)Ily 
idealistic, and founded on a belief of a speedy end of the 
world. Indeed, there exists no trace (^f an Arabian 
church founded by St. Paul. If die, region of the Ilau- 
ran became, towards the vear 70, one of tlie m )st imp )rfc- 
ant centres of Christianitv, it was owinu; to the emiL!;ra- 
tion of Christians from Palestine; and it w.is really the 
Ebionites, the enemies of St. Paul, who had in this region 
their principal establishment. 

At Damascus, where there were many Jews,''^ the 
teachings of Paul received more attention. In the syna- 
gogues of that city he entered into vigi^rous argum.'nts 
to prove that Jesus was the Christ. Great indeed 
was the astonishment of the faithful on beholding^ him 

o 

who had persecuted their brethren at Jerusalem, an(l 
- who had come to Damascus " to bi-ing themselves bound 
unto the chief-priests," now apf)earing as their leading 
defender.^^ His audacity and personal characteristics 
almost alarmed them. lie was alone; he sought no 

8* 



178 



THE APOSTLES. 



counsel he established iio school ; and the emotioiis he 
excited were those of cariosity i-atlier than of s^-inpatli y. 
Tlie faithful felt that he was a brother, but a brother 
marked by singular {)eculiarities. Theybelievevi him in- 
capable of treachery ; but amiable and mediocre natures 
always experience sentiments of misti-ust and alarm 
"when brought in contact with powerful and original 
minds, wdiom they acknowledge as their superiors, and 
who they know must surpass them. 



CHAPTER XL 



PEA(;E and INTEKIOIi DEVPXOPMENTS OF THE CKUIiOII O? 

JUDEA. 

Froim tlie jeav 38 to tlie 3^ear 44 no persecution seems 
to liave weiglied upon tlie Clnircli.^ Tlie faithful, no 
doubt, were far more prudent than before the 
death of Stephen, and avoided speaking in pub- 
lic. Perhaps, also, the troubles of the Jews who, 
during all the second part of the reign of Caligula, 
were at vaj'iance with that prince, contributed to 
favor the nascent sect. The Jews, in fact, were 
active persecutors in ])i'oportion to the good under- 
standiiig they maiiitaineil with the Romans. To buy 
or to recompense their tranipiiHity, the latter were 
led to augment their privileges, and \\\ particulai- tliat 
one to which they clung most closely — the right of kill- 
ing persons wliom they regarded as unfaithful to their 
law.^ Now the period at which we have arrived was 
one of the most stormy of all in the turbulent history 
of tliis singular people. 

Tiie antipathy which the Jews, by their moral supe- 
riorit)', their odd customs, and also b}^ their severir^^, 
excited in the populations aiiiong wliom they lived, 
was at its height, especially at Alexandria.^ This accu- 
mulated hatred t(»i»k advantage, for its own satisfaction, 
of the coming to the imperial throne of one of the 
most dangerous madmen that ever wore a crown. 



180 



THE APOSTLES. 



Caligula, at least after the inalady which con sum mat e-d 
liis mental derangement (October 37), presented the 
frightful spectacle of a maniac governing the world 
with the most enormous powers ever put into the hands 
of any man. The disastrous law ofCsesarism rendered 
such horrors possible, and left them without remedy. 
This lasted three years and three months. One cannot 
without shame narrate in a serious history that which 
is now to follow. Before entering upon the recital of 
these saturnalia we cannot but exclaim with Suetonius: 
RelJqua lit de monstro narranda sunt. 

The most inoffensive pastime of this madman was 
the care of his own divinity.* In this he used a sort of 
bitter irony, a mixture of the serious and the comic 
(for the monster was not wanting in wit), a sort of pro- 
found derision of the human race. The enemies of the 
"Jews were not slow to perceive the advantage they 
might derive from this mania. The religious abase- 
ment of the world was such that not a protest was 
heard against the sacrilege of the Csesar ; every worship 
hastened to bestow npon him tlie titles and the h<~>nors 
which it had reserved for its gods. It is to the eteriial 
gU)ry of the Jews that, in the midst of this ignol)l6 
idolatry, they nttered the cry of outraged conscience. 
The principle of intolerance which was in them, and 
which led them to so many cruel acts, showed here its 
bright side. Alone affirming their religion to be the 
absolute religion, they would not bend to the odious 
caprice of the tyrant. This was the source of untold 
troubles for them. It needed only tiiat there should be 
in any city some man discontented with the synagogue, 
spiteful, or simply mischievous, to bring about fi-ight- 



THE APOSTLES. 



181 



fill consequences. At one time the people would insist 
on erecting an altar to Caligula in the very place where 
the Jews could least of all suffer it.^ At another, a 
troupe of ragamuffins would collect, hooting and crying 
out against the Jews for alone I'efusing to place the 
statue of the emperor in their houses of prayer ; then 
the people would run to the synagogues and the ora- 
tories ; thej would install there tlie bust of Caligula;^ 
and the unfortunate Jews were placed in the alterna- 
tive of either renouncino^ their rebVion, or committino: 
treason. Thence followed frightful vexations. 

Such pleasantries had been several times repeated, 
when a still more diabolical idea was suggested to the 
emperor. This was to place a colossal golden stiitue of 
himself in the sanctuary of the temple at Jerusalem, and 
to have the temple itself dedicated to his own divinity.^ 
This odious intrigue had very nearly hastened by thirty 
y^ears the revolt and the ruin of the Jewish nation. The 
moderation of the imperial legate, Publius Petronius, 
and the intervention of King Herod Agrippa, favorite 
of Caligula, prevented the catastrophe. But until the 
moment in which the sword of CluBr^ea deli vered the earth 
from the most execrable tyrant it had as yet endured, 
the Jews lived every wliere in terror. Philo has preserved 
for us the unheard of scene which occurred when the de- 
putati( »n of which he was the ciiief was admitted to see the 
emperor.^ Caligula received them during a visit he was 
paying to the villas of ^^fecenas and of Lamia, near the 
sea, in the environs of Pozzuoli. He was on that day 
in a vein of gaiety. Helicon, his favoi'ite joker, had 
been relating^ to him all sorts of buffooneries about the 
Jews. " Ah, then, it is you,'' said he to them with a bit- 



182 



THE APOSTLES. 



tcr smile and showing liis teeth, " who alone will not re- 
cognise me for a god, and ]:)refer to adore one wlniso 
name 3^ou cannot even utter!" lie accompanied th.ese 
words with a frightf.ul blasphemy. The Jews trembled ; 
their Alexandrian enemies were the first to take up the 
word: " You would still more, O Sire, detest these peo- 
j)le and all their nation, if 3'ou knew the aversion they 
have for you ; for they alone have refused to offer sacri- 
fices for your health when all other people did so ! " 

At these words, the Jews cried out that it was a ca- 
Ini^mv, and that th("y had three times offered for the pros- 
perity of the em{)eror the most solemn sacrifices known 
to tlieir religion. "Yes," said Caligula, with a very 
comical seriousness, " you have sacrificed, and so far, 
well; but then it was not to me that you sacrificed. 
What advantage do I derive from it?" Thereupon, 
turning his back upon them, he strode through the apart- 
ments, giving orders for repaii'S, inci^ssantly going Uj) and 
down stairs. The unfortunate de|)uties, and ;imong them 
rhilo, (Mglitv years of ag the most venerable man of 
the tim(\ perhaps — Jesus being nolongerliving — followed 
him up and down out of breath, trembling, the object 
of derision to the assembled company. Caligida turning 
suddenlv, said to them : "By the Iw, why will you not 
eat poi-k ? " The flatterers burst into laughter; s(^me of 
the officers, with a severe tone, reminded them that they 
off iided the majesty of tin) emperor by immoderate 
lai^,ghter. Th(^ Jews stammered ; one of them awkward- 
ly said: "There are some persons who do not eat lamb." 
"Ah!" s-iitl the emperor, "they have good reason; 
lamb is insipid." Some time after, he made a show of 
ii!r|uiring into their business; then, when spraking bad 



TUK APOSTLKS. 



IS-i 



just begun, he loft them and went off to give orders 
about tbc decoration of ii ball which he wanted to have 
furnished with polished stones. He retui'ned, atfeetini^ 
an air of moderation, and asked the deputation if th^-y 
had anything to add; and as tlie latter resumed their in- 
tei-rnpted discourse, he turned his back n.pon them to 
go and see another hall which he was ornamenting with 
paintings. Tids game of tiger s})orting with its prey 
last'- 'd for honi's. Tiie Jews were expecting death; but 
at the l..st n^iomcnt the claws of the beast relaxed. 
*'Wcl!,'' Caligula, while rei):issing, "these folks 

are decid.'dly less guilty than jur.iable for not believ- 
ing in iny divinity." Tir.is could the gravest ques- 
tions be trcaU'd undei* tb.e lujn-ible i-egimen created by 
the baseness of the world, clu;i'ished by a soldier}^ and a 
popidace about equally vile, and maintained by the dis- 
soluteness of nearly all. 

We can easily understand how so o])pre«sivc a situa- 
tion must have taken iVoni the Jews of the tin^e of 
Marcellus much of that an laclty v.diich made them 
speak so pi-oudly to Pilate. Already almost entirely 
detached from the temple, the Christians must h;ive 
been much less alarmed than the Jews at the sacrile- 
gious projects of Caligula. They were, moreover, too 
little numerous for their existence to be known at Itoiiie. 
The storm of the time of Caligula, like that vrhich 
resulted in the taking of Jerusalem by Titus, ])assed 
over their heads, and was in many regards serviceable 
to them. Everything which weakened Jewish inde- 
pendence was favorable to them, since it was so much 
taken away from the powder of a suspicious orthodox}^, 
maintaining its [)retensions by severe penalties. 



18i 



THE APOSTLES. 



This period of peace was tVnitt'ui in interior develop, 
irients. The nascent Clinrch was divided into tlii-ee 
provinces : Jndea, Samaria, Galilee^, to which Damascus 
was no doubt attaclied. The primacy of Jerusalem was 
uncontested. The Church of this city, which had been 
dispersed after tlie deatli of Stephen, was quickly 
reconstituted. The Apostles had never cpiitted the 
city. The brothers of the Lord continued to reside 
there, and to wield a srreat authority.''^' It does not 
secni that this new Church of Jerusalem was organized 
in so rigorous a manner as tlie first; the community of 
goods was not strictly reestablished in it. But thei"e 
was founded a large fund f )r the pooi-, to which wei-e 
added the contributions sent by minor churches to tlie 
mother church, the origin and permanent source of 
their faith.^^ 

Peter undertook frequent apostolical journeys in the 
environs of Jerusalem.'^ lie always enjoyed a great 
reputation as a thaumaturgist. At Lydda^"^ in particu- 
lar he passed foi' having cured a paralytic named ^neas, 
a miracle which is said to have led to numerous con- 
versions in the [)hiin of Sai-on.'^ From Lydda he 
repaired to Joppa,'^ a city which ajipcars to have been 
a centre for Christianity. Cities of workmen, of sailors, 
of poor people, wdiere the orthodox Jews were uot 
dominant, were those in wliicli the new sect found the 
best dispositions. Peter made a long sojourn at Joppa, 
at the house of a tanner named Simon who dwelt near 
the sea.^^ Working in leather was an industry almost 
unclean, according to the Mosaic code; it was not law- 
ful to visit too frequently those who carried it on, so that 
the curriers had to live in a district by themselves.'' 



THE APOSTLES. 



1S5 



Peter, in choosing siicli a host, gave a ]n'oof of his indif- 
ference to Jewish prejndices, and worked for tliat 
ennoblement of petty caluiigs which constitutes a noble 
feature of tlie Christian spirit. 

The orgmization of works of charity was soon ac- 
tively pursued. The church of Joppa possessed a woman 
admirably named in Aramaic, Tahitha (gazelle), and in 
Greek, Dorcas^^^ who consecrated all her cares to the 
poor.^^ She was rich, it seems, and distributed her 
wealth in alms. This worthy lady had formed a society 
of pious widows, who spent their days with her in weav- 
ing clothes for the poor.^^ As the scliism between 
Christianit}^ and Judaism was not yet consummated, it is 
probable that the Jews shared in the benefit of these 
acts of charit3^ The "saints and widows ''^^ were thus 
pious jKTsons, doing good to all, a sort of friars and 
nuns, whom only the most austere devotees of a pedantic 
orthodoxy could suspect, /m//ce^Z/, loved by the pe()ple, 
devout, charitable, full of pity. 

The germ of those associations of women, wliieli are 
one of the glories of Christianity, tluis existed in the 
first churches of Judea. At Jaffa oninienced that 
series of the veiled women, clotlied in linen, \\\\o were 
destined to continuci through centuries the tradition of 
charitable acts. Tabitha was the mother of a fam ly 
which will have no en 1 as long as there are miseries to 
be solaced and o;ood feminine instincts to assua2;e them. 
It is related further on, that Peter raised her from the 
dead. Alas! death, utterly senseless, utterl}^ revolting 
as it is in such a case, is inflexible. When the most ex- 
quisite soul has evaporated, the decree is irrevocable ; 
the most excellent woman can no more respond to the in- 



186 



THE APOSTLES. 



vitndon of the frieniJly voices wliich would fain recall her 
than can the vulgar and frivolous. But ideas are not 
subject to the conditions of matter. Virtue and good- 
ness escape the fangs of death. Tabitha had no need to 
be resuscitated. For the sake of three or four days 
more of tliis sad life, wliy disturb her sweet and eternal 
repose? Let her sleep in peace ; the day of the just will 
come ! 

In these very mixed cities, the problem of the admis- 
sion of pagans to baptism was pro})Ounded with much 
urgency. Peter was strongly preoccupied with it. One 
day while he was praying at Joppn, on the terrace of 
the tanni^r's house, haviiiL?: b('fore him this sea that was 
soon going to bear the new faith to oil the empii-e, he 
had a prophetic ecstasy. Plunged into a state of dreamy 
reverie, he thought he experienced a sensation of hungei', 
and asked for som '.thing to eat. Now while they were 
making it ready for him, he saw the heavens o),)ened, and 
a cloth tied at the four corners come down thence. 
Looking inside the cloth he saw there all sorts of ani- 
mals, and thought he heard a voice saying to him : "Kill 
and eat." And on his objecting that many of these 
animiils were im])ure, he was answered: "Call not that 
unclean which God has cleansed." This, as it appears, 
w\as repeated three , times. Peter was persuaded that 
these animals represented the mass of the Gentih'S, which 
God Himself had just rendered fit for the holy comnm- 
nion of the kingdom of God.^^ 

An occasion was soon presented for applying tlieso 
principles. From Joppa, Peter repaired to Cesarea. 
There he came into relations with a centurion named 
Cornelius.^^ The garrison of Cesarea was formed, at 



THE ArOSTLES. 



1S7 



least in part, of one of those cohorts composed of Italian 
volunteers which were called ItaliccB}^ The complete name 
for wl\ich this stood may have been cohors prima Augus- 
tus Italica civium Romanorum?^ Cornelius was a centu- 
rion of this cohort, consequently an Italian and a 
citizen. He was a man of probity, who had long felt 
drawn towards the aconotheistic worship of the Jews. 
He prayed, gave alms; practised, in a word, those precepts 
of natural religion which are taken for grant'^d by 
Judaism ; but he was not circum.cised ; he was not a 
proselyte in any degree whatever ; he was a pious pagan, 
an Israelite in heart, nothing^ more.^'' All his household 
and some soldiers of his command were, it is said, in the 
same state of mind.^^ Cornelius applied for admission 
into the new Church. Peter, whose nature was open 
and benevolent, granted it to him, and the centurion was 
baptized.^ 

Perhaps Peter saw^ at first no dlfficulty^^ in this ; but 
on his return to Jerusalem he was severely reproached 
i'ur it. He had openly violated the law, he had gone 
in among the uncircumcised and had eaten with them. 
The question was an important one; it was no other than 
whether the law Were abolished, whether it was per- 
missible to violate it in proselytism, whether Gentiles 
' could be received on an equal footing into the Church. 
Peter, to defend himself, related the vision lie had at 
Joppa. Subsequentl}^ the fact of the centurion served 
as an argument in the gi-eat question of the baptism 
of the nncircumcised. To give it more force it was 
supposed that each phase of this important business 
had been marked by a revelation from Heaven. It was 
related that after long prayers Cornelius had seen au 



188 



THE APOSTLES. 



angel who ordered him to go and inquire for Feter al 
Joppa; that the symbolical vision of Peter took place 
at the very hour of the arrival of the messengers from 
Cornelius; that, moreover, God liad taken it upon 
Himself to lesritimize all that had been done, seeino; 
that the Ploly Ghost had descended upon Cornelius 
and upon his household, the latter having spoken 
strange tongues and sung psalms after the fashion of 
the other believers. Was it natural to refuse baptism 
to persoiis who had received the Holy Ghost? 

The Church of Jerusalem was still exclusively com- 
posed of Jews and of proselytes. The IIolj Ghost 
being shed upon the uncircumcised before baptism, ap- 
peared an extraordinary fact. It is probable that there 
existed thenceforth a pai'ty opposed in principle to the 
admission of Gentiles, and that every one did not 
accept the explanations of Peter. The author of the 
Act^ woidd have it that the a[)probation was unani- 
mous. But in a few years we sludl see the question 
revived with much greater intensity.^^ The fact of 
the good centurion was, perhaps, like that of the Ethi- 
opian eunuch, accepted as an exceptional one, justi- 
fied by a revelation and an express order from God 
The matter was far from beinu^ settled. This was the 
lii'St contrf)versy in the bosom of the Church ; the para- 
dise of interior peace had lasted six or seven years. 

About the year 40, the great question on which 
hung all the future of Christianity appears thus to 
have been propounded. Peter and Philip took a very 
just view of the true solution, and baptized pagans. It 
is difficult, no doubt, in the two accounts given us by 
the author of the Acts on this subjijct. and which are 



THE APOSTLES. 



189 



partly sketched one from the otlier, not to recognise a 
system. The author of the Acts belongs to a party of 
conciliation, favorable to the introduction of pagans 
into the Church, and who is not willing to confess the 
violence of the divisions to which the affair gave rise. 
One feels strongly that in writing the episodes of the 
eunuch, of the centurion, and even of the conversion 
of the Samaritans, this author means not only to nar- 
rate facts, but seeks especially precedents for an opi- 
nion. On the orher hand, we cannot admit that he 
invents the facts which he narrates. The conversions 
of the eunuch of Candace, and of the centurion Corne- 
lius, are probably real facts, presented and transformed 
according to the needs of the thesis in view of which 
the book of the Acts was ccjm posed. 

Paul, who was destined, some ten or eleven years 
latei", to give to this discussion so decisive a bearing, 
had not yet meddled with it. He was in the Hauran, 
or at Damascus, preaching, refuting the Jews, placing 
at the service of the new faith as much ardor as he 
liad shown in fighting against it. The fanaticism, of 
which he had been the instrument, was not long in 
pui'suing him in his turn. The Jew^s resolved to de- 
stroy him. They obtained from the ethnarch, who gov- 
erned Damascus in the name of Harath, an order to 
arrest him. Paul hid himself. It was known that he 
had to leave the city ; the ethnarch, who wanted to 
please the Jews, placed detachments at the gates to 
seize his person ; but the brethren enabled him to 
escape by night, letting him down in a basket from 
the window of a house which overhung the ram- 
parts.** 



190 



THE APOSTLES. 



Having escaped this danger, Paul turned Ins eyea 
towards Jerusalem. He had been a Christian foi' three 
years,^-^ and had not yet seen tlie apostles. His rigid, 
unyielding character, prone to is(dation, had made him 
at first turn liis back as it were upon the great family 
into wdiich he liad just entered in spite of himself, and 
])refer for his first apostolate a new country, in which 
he would find no colleague. Thei-e was awakened in 
him, however, a desire to see Peter.-^^ He recognised 
his authority, and designated him, as evei-y one did, by 
the name of Cejjhiis^ " the stone." He repaired then 
to Jerusalem, taking the same road, but in an opposite 
direction to that he had traversed three years before in 
a state of mind so diilerent. 

His position at Jerusalem was extremel}" false and 
embarrassing. It had been understood there, no doubt, 
that the persecutor had become the most zealous of 
evangelists, and the first defender of the faith which 
he had formerly sought to destroy.^ But there remained 
great prejudices against him. Many feared some hor- 
rible plot on his part. They had seen him so em-aged, 
so cruel, so zealous in entering houses and rending open 
family secrets in order to find victims, that he was be- 
lieved capable of playing an odious farce in order to 
destroy those whom he hated.^ He stayed, as it seems, 
in the liouse of Peter.^" Many disciples remained deaf 
to his advances, and shrank from him."*^^ A man of 
courage and will, Barnabas, played at this moment a 
decisive part. As a Cyi)rian and a new convert, he 
understood better than the Galilean disciples the position 
of Paul. He came to meet him, took him in a manner 
by the hand, introduced him to the most suspicious, 



THE APOSTLES. 



11)1 



and became his surety .^^ By this act of wissl(>in and 
penetration, Barnabas won at thw liands of the Cliristian 
world the hitrhest dei^ree of merit. It was he who 
appreciated Paul; it was to him that the Church owes 
the most extraordinary (jf her founders. The fruitful 
friendship of these two apostolic men, a friendship that 
no cloud ever tarnished, notwithstanding many defer- 
ences in opinion, afterwards led to their association in the 
work of missions to the Gentiles. Tliis grand association 
dates, in one sense, from PauTs Urst sojourn at Jerusalem. 
Among tlie causes of the faith of the world we must 
count the generous movement of Barnabas, stretching 
out his hand to the suspected and forsaken Paul ; the 
profound intuition which led him to discover the soul 
of an apostle under that humiliated air; the frankness 
with wdiich he broke the ice and levelled the obstacles 
raised between the convert and his new brethj-en by 
the unfortunate antecedents of the former, and perha[)S, 
also, by certain traits of his cliaracter. 

Paul, meantime, systematically as it were, avoided 
seeing the apostles. It is he himself says so, and he 
takes the trouble to affirm it with an oath; he saw ordy 
Peter, and James the brother of the Lord.^*^ His sojourn 
lasted ordy two weeks."*^ Assuredly it is possible that 
at the epoch in which he wrote the Epistle to the Gala- 
tians (towards 56), Paul may have found himself led, 
by the needs of the moment, to give some little coloring 
to his relations with the apostles ; to represent them as 
more harsh, more imperious, than they were in reality. 
Towards 56 the essential point for him to prove was 
that he had received nothing from Jerusalem — that he 
was in no vfise the mandatory of the Council of 



192 



THE APOSTLES. 



Twelve estMblislied in this city. Ilis attitude at Jeru 
salem would have been the proud and lofty bearing of 
a master who avoids relations with other masters in 
order not to have the air of subordinating himself to 
them, and not the humble and repentant mien of a 
sinner ashamed of the past, as tlie author of the Acts 
represents. We cannot believe that from the year 44 
Paul was animated by this jealous care to preserve his 
own originality, which he showed at a later day. The 
rarity of his interviews with the apostles, and the 
brevity of his sojourn at Jerusalem, arose probably 
from his embarrassment in the presence of people of 
quite another nature than his own, and full of prejudices 
against him, rather than from a refined polity, which 
would have revealed to liim fifteen years in advance 
the disadvantages there might be in his frequenting 
their society. 

In reality, that wdiich must have erected a sort of 
wall between the apostles and Paul, was chiefly the 
difference of their character and of their education. 
The apostles were all Galileans; they had not been at 
the great Jewish schools ; they had seen Jesus ; they 
remembered his words ; they were good and pious 
folk, at times a little solenm and simple-hearted. 
Paul was a man of action, full of fire, only modei-ately 
mystical, enrolled, as by a superior force, in a sect 
which was not that of his first adoption. Revolt, protes- 
tation, were his habitual sentiments.'^^ His Jewish edu- 
cation was much superior to that of all his new brethren. 
But not having heard Jesus, not having been appointed 
by him, he had, according to Christian ideas, a great 
inferiority. Now Paul was not made to accept any 



THK APOSTLES. 



193 



secondary place. His hanglity individuality demanded 
a position for himself. It is probably towards this time 
that there sprang up in his mind the prood idea that 
after all he had nothing to envy those who had known 
Jesus and had been chosen by him, since he also had 
seen Jesus and had received from Jesus a direct revela- 
tion and the commission of his apostleship. Even those 
who had been honored by the personal appearance to 
them of the risen Christ, had no more than he had. Al- 
though the last, liis vision had been no less remarkable. 
It had taken place under circumstances which gave it 
a peculiar mark of importance and of distinction.^^ 
Signal error ! The echo of the voice of Jesus was 
found in the discourses of the humblest of His disciples. 
VV^ith all his Jewish science, Paul could not make up 
for the immense disadvantage under which he was 
placed by his tardy initiation. The Christ whom he 
had seen on the road to Damascus was not, whatever 
lie might say, the Christ of Galilee ; it was the Christ 
of his imagination, of his own senses. Although he njay 
h.ive been most attentive to gather the words of the 
Master,''^ it is clear tliat he was only a disciple at second- 
hand. If Paul had met Jesus during his life, it may be 
doubtful whether he would have attached himself to 
Ilini. His doctrine will be his own, not that of Jesus ; 
tlie revelations of which he is so proud are the fruit of 
his own brain. 

Tliese ideas, which he dared not as yet communicate, 
rendered his stay at Jerusalem very disagreeable. At 
the end of a fortnight he took leave of Peter and went 
away. He had seen so few people that he ventured to 
say that no one in the chui-ches of Judea knew him by 

9 



194 



THE APOSTLES. 



siglit, or knew anglit of liiin, save by liearsay.''^ At a 
subsequent period he attributed this sudden departure 
to a revelation. He related that being one day in the 
temple praying, he was in an extasy, and saw Jesus in 
person, and received from Him the order to quit Jeru- 
salem iminediately, because they were not inclined to 
receive his testimony." In exchange for these hard 
liearts, Jesus had promised him the apostolate of distant 
nations, and an auditory more docile to his voice."*^ 
Those who would fain hide the traces of the many 
ruptures caused by the coming of this insubordiiuite 
disciple into the Church, pretended that Paul passed 
quite a long time at Jerusalem, living with the brethren 
on a footing of the most complete liberty ; but that, 
having undertaken to preach to the Hellenist Jews, 
he was xery nearly killed by them, so that the brethren 
had t(j watch over liim and protect him, and finally 
took him to Cesarea.'^^ 

It is probable, in fact, that from Jerusalem he did 
repair to Cesarea. But he stayed there only a short 
time, and then set out to traverse Sj^'ia, and afterwards 
Cilicia.''^ He was, no doubt,, already preaching, but on 
his own account, and without any understanding with 
anybody. Tarsus, his native place, was his habitual 
sojourn during this period of his apostolical life, which 
we may reckon as having lasted about two years.^^ It 
is possible that the churches of Cilicia owed their origin 
to him.^" Still, the life of Paul was not at this epoch 
that which we see it to have been subsequentlj^ Ho 
did not assume the title of an apostle, which was then 
strictly reserved to the Twelve.^^ It was only from the 
time of his association with Barnabas (year 45) that he 



THE APOSTLES. 



L9o 



entered upon tliat career of sacred peregrinations and 
preachings which made of him the type of the travelling 
missionary. 



CHAPTER XII. 



E8TAELTSIIM1CNT OF TITS CHURCH OF ANTK^CH 

The new tViitli wjis pi'<)pa<i^ated fVoiii one neio^lil/orlioocl 
to anoilier witli a.stoiiiyliiiig rapidity. The raetii 
bers of the Church of Jerusalem who had been dis- 
persed ininiediatelj after tlie death of Stephen, push- 
ing their conquests ah)ng the coast of Phoenicia, 
reached Cyprus and Antioch. Tliey were as yet guided 
by an unvarying principle of refusing to preach the 
gospel to the Jews.^ Antioch, " the metropolis of the 
East," the third city of the world,^ was the centre of this 
Christendom of northern Syria. It was a city with a 
population of more than 500,000 souls, almost as large 
as Paris before its recent extensions,^ and the residence 
of the Imperial Legate of Syria. Suddenly advanced 
to a high degree of splendor by the Seleucidte, it 
had only to profit by the Roman occupation of it. In 
general, the Selencidge had surpassed the Romans in 
the taste for theatrical decorations as applied to great 
cities. Temples, aquedncts, baths, basilicas, nothing 
was wanting at Antioch in what constituted a grand 
Syrian city of that period. The streets flanked by 
colonnades, with their cross roads decorated with 
statues, had there more of s^^mmetry and regularity 
than anywhere else.* A Corso^ ornamented with four 
ranges of columns, forming two covered galleries with 
a wide avenue in the midst, crossed the city from one 



THE APOSTLES. 



side to the other,^ the length of whicli was tlurtj'-six 
stadia (more than a league).^ But Antioch not only 
possessed immense edifices of public utility,^ she had 
that also which few of the Syrian cities possessed — the 
noblest specimens of Grecian art, wonderfully beantiful 
statues,^ classical works of a delicacy of detail Vv'hich 
the age was no longer capal)le of imitating. Antioch, 
from its foundation, had been altogether a Grecian 
city. The Macedonians of Antigone and Seleucus 
had imported into that country of the lower Orontes 
their most lively recollections, their worship, and the 
names of their country.® The Grecian myth )h>gy was 
there adopted as it were in a second home; they pre- 
tended to exhibit in the country a crowd of " holy 
places" forming part of this mytholog3\ The city was 
full of the worship of Apollo and of the nymphs. 
Daphne, an enchanting place two short hours distant 
from the city, reminded the conquerors of the plea- 
santest fictions. It was a sort of plagiarism, a counter- 
feit of the myths of the mother country, aiuUogous to 
these adventurous transportations which the primitive 
tribes carried with tliem in their travels ; th'Ar mythi- 
cal geography, their Berecyntha, their Arnanda, their 
Ida, and their Olympus. These Greek fables consti- 
tuted for them a very old religion, and one scarcely 
more serious than tlie metamorphoses of Ovid. The 
ancient religions of the country, particularly that of 
Mount Cassius,^^ contributed some little gravity to it. 
But Syrian levity, Babylonian charlatanism, and all 
the impostures of Asia, mingled at this limit of the 
two worlds, had made Antioch the capital of lies and 
the bink of every description of infamy. 



198 



THE APOSTLES. 



Besides tlie Greek population, indeed, wliicli in uo 
part of the East (with tlie exception of Alexandria) 
Avas as numerous as here, Antioch numbered amongst 
its population a considerable number of native Syrians, 
Bpeaking Svriac.^^ These natives composed a low 
class, inhabiting the suburbs of the great city and the 
populous villages which formed a vast suburb^^ all 
around it, Charandaraa, Ghisira, Gaudigura, and 
Apate (chiefly Syrian namesy^ Marriages between 
the Syrians and the Greeks were common. Seleucus 
having formerly made naturalization a legal obligation 
binding on every stranger establishing himself in the 
city, Antioch, at the end of three centuries and 
a half of its existence, became one of the places 
in the world where race was most intermingled with 
race. The degradation of the people there was 
terrible. Tlie peculiarity of these focuses of moral 
putrefaction is, to reduce all the I'aces of mankind 
to the same level. The degradation of certain Le- 
vantine cities, dominated by the spirit of intrigue, 
delivered up entirely to low cunning, can scarce give us 
a conception of the degree of corruption reached by 
the human race at Antioch. It was an inconceivable 
medley of merry-andrews, quacks, bufl*oons,^^ magi- 
cians, miracle-mongur.-^, sorcerers, priests, impostors ; a 
city of races, games, dances, processions, f^tes, de- 
bauches, of unbridled luxury, of all the follies of the 
East, of the most unhealthy superstitions, and of the 
fanaticism of the orgy.^^ By turns servile and un- 
grateful, cowardly and insolent, the people of Antioch 
A\ere the perfect model of those crowds devoted to 
Csesarism, without country, without nationality, with- 



THE APOSTLES. 



199 



out familj honor, witliout a namo to keep. The great 
Corso which traversed tlie citj was like a theatre, 
where rolled, day after daj, the waves of a trifling, 
light-headed, changeable, insurrection-loving^' popu- 
lace — a populace sometimes spiritael}^ occupied with 
Bongs, parodies, squibs, impertinence of all sorts.^^ The 
city was very literary,^ but literary only in the litera- 
ture of rhetoricians. The slights were strano:e : there 
were some games in which bands of naked young 
girls took part in all the exe^rcises, with a mere fillet 
around them ;^ at the celebrated festival of Naiouma, 
troupes of courtezans swarmed in public in basins^'^ filled 
with limpid water.-'* This fete was like an intoxica- 
tion, like a dream of Sardanapalus, where all the plea- 
sures, all the debaucheries, not excluding some of a 
more delicate kind, were unrolled pell-mell. This 
river of dirt, which, making its exit l>y the mouth of 
the Orontes, was about to invade Kome,^^ had here its 
principal sources. Two hundred decurions were em- 
ployed in regulating the religious ceremonies and 
celebrations.^^ The municipality possessed great public 
domains, the rents of which the decemvirs divided 
Detween the poor citizens.^^ Like all cities of pleasure, 
^ntioch had a lowest section of the peoj)le, living on 
the public or on sordid gains. Tlie beauty of works 
of art and tlie infijiite cliarm of nature^^ pi-e vented this 
moral degi'adation from degenerating entirely into 
ugliness and vulgarity. The site of Antioch is one o^ 
the most picturesque in the world. The city occupied 
the interval between the Orontes and the slopes of 
Mount Silpius, one of the spurs of Mount Casius. No- 
thing could equal the abundance and beauty of the 



200 



THE APOSTLES. 



waters.^ The fortified space, cliiiibing up perpendicu- 
lar rocks, by a real master-work of military architec- 
ture,^^ inclosed the summit of the mountains, and 
formed with the rocks at a tremendous height an in- 
' dented crown of marvellous effect. This disposition 
of their ramparts, uniting the advantage of the ancient 
acropoles with those of the great walled cities, was in 
general preferred by the Generals of Alexander, as one 
sees in the Pierian Seleucia, in Ephesus, in Smyrna, in 
Thessalonica. The result was various astonishing per- 
spectives. Antioch had within its walls mountains 
seven hundred feet in height, perpendicular rocks, tov- 
rents, precipices, deep ravines, cascades, inaccessible 
caves ; in the midst of all these, delicious gardens."^ 
A thick wood of myrtles, of flowering box, of laurels, 
of plants always green — and of the most tender green 
— rocks carpeted with pinks, with hyacitith, and cycla- 
mens, give to these wild heights the aspect of gardens 
hung in the air. The variet}^ of the flowers, the fresh- 
ness of the turf, composed of an incredible numbei* of 
minute grasses, the beauty of the plane trees which 
border the Orontes, inspire the gaiety, the tinge 
of sweet scent with which the beautifnl genius of 
Chrysostom, Libanus, and Julian is, as it were, intoxi- 
cated. On the right bank of the river stretches a vast 
plain bordered on one side by the Amanus, and the 
oddly truncated mountains of Pieria; on the other side 
by the plateaus of Cliyrrestica,^^ behind wh.ich is 
hiddden the dangerous neighborhood of the Arab 
and the desert. The valley of the Orontes, which 
opens to the west, brings this interior basin into com- 
munication with the sea, or rather with the vast world 



THE APOSTLES. 



2Jl 



in the b\ ^om of wliich the Me^litorranGaii has coiioti- 
tuted i'i'(M\\ all time a sort of neutral highway and fede- 
ral bond. 

Amongst the different colonies which tlie liberal ordi- 
nances of the Seleucidae had attracted to the capital of 
Syria, that of the Jews was one of the most numerous ;^ 
it dated from the time of Seleucus Nicator, and was go- 
verned by the same laws as the Greeks.^ Although the 
Jews had an ethnarch of their own, their relations with 
the pagans were very frequent. Here, as at Alexandri^i, 
these relations often degenerated into qunrrels and aggres- 
sions.^^ On the other hand, they afforded a field for an 
active reh"gious propngandism. The polytheism of the 
officials becomin'i; more and more insufficient to meet the 
wants of serious persons, tlie Grecian and Jewish ])hi- 
losop'iiies attracted all those whom the vain pomps of 
paganism could not satisfy. Tiie number of proselytes 
was considerable. From the first days of Christianity, 
Antioch had furnished to the Church of Jernsalem one 
of its most influential members, viz. Nicolas, one of 
the deacons.'^^ Tliere existed there promising germs, 
wliich only waited for a ray of grace to burst foith into 
bloom and bear the most excellent fruits which had 
hitherto been produced. 

The cliurch of Antioch owed its f)undation to some 
original believers from Cyprus and Cyrene, who had 
already been zealous in preaching.^'' Up to this time 
they had only addressed themselves to the Jews. But 
in a city where pure Jews — Jews who were proselytes, 
" people fearing God" — or half-Jews, half-pagans and pure 
pagans, lived together,'"^^ C(v.ifined preachings, restricted to 
a group of houses, became impossible. That feeling of 

9* 



202 



THE APOSTLES. 



religions aristocracy on wliicli the Jews -of Jerusalem so 
niiich prided tliemselves, bad no existence in these large 
cities, where civilization was altogether of the profane 
sort, where the atmosphere was more expanded, and 
where prejudices were less firmi}' rooted. The Cvpriot 
and Cyrenian missionaries were then constrained to de- 
part from their rule. They preached to the Jews and 
to the Greeks indifferently. 

The reciprocal dispositions of the Jewish and of the 
pagan population appeared at this time to have been 
very unsatisfactory.^*^ But circumstances of another 
kind probably subserved the new ideas. The earth- 
quak(% which had done sej'ious damage to the city on 
28d March, of the year 37, still occapied their minds. 
The whole city was talking about an in>postor named 
Debborius, who pretended to ptrevent the recurrence of 
such accidents by ridiculous talismans.^^ This sufficed 
to direct preoccupied minds towards supernatural mat- 
ters. However that may have been, great was the suc- 
cess of the Christian preaching. A young, innovating, 
and ardent Churcli, full of the future, because it was 
composed of the most diverse elements, was quickly 
founded. All the gifts of the Holy Spirit were there 
poured out, and it was then easy to perceive that this 
new Church, emancipated from the strict Mosaism which 
traced an irrefragable circle around Jerusalem, would 
become the second cradle of Christianity. Assuredly, 
Jerusalem will remain for ever the capital of the Chris 
tian world ; nevertheless, the point of departure of the 
church of the Gentiles, the pi-imal focus of Christian 
missions, was, in truth, Antioch. It is there, for tlie first 
time, that a Christian church was established, divorced 



THE APOSTLES. 



from the boii'ls of Juclnism ; it is tbcrc that the great 
propaganda of the x\{)ostolie age was estabHshed ; it 
was there that St. Paul assained a (]efinite character. 
Antioch marks the second halting-place of the progress 
of Christianity, and in respect of Chr-istian nobihty, nei- 
ther Kome, nor Alexandria, nor Constantinople can be 
at all com|)ared with it. 

The topogi'aphy of ancient Antioch is so effaced 
that we should search in vain ovej- irs site, nearly desti- 
tute as it is of any v^estiges of the antique, for the point 
to wliich to atlach such grand recollections. Here, as 
eveiTwhere, Christianity was, doubtless, established in 
the poor cpiarters of the city and among the petty 
ti'adesfolk. The basilica, wdn'ch is called " the old " 
and "apostolic" to the foui'teentli centnry, was situ- 
ated in the street called Singon, near the Pantheon 
But no one knows where this Pantheon was. Tradi- 
tion and certain vau:ne analoiz;ies induced us to search 
the primitive ChrisHan quarter alongside the gate, 
which even to-day is still called Paul's gate, Bdh-holos^^ 
and at the foot of the mountain, named by Proco[)iiis 
Stavrin^ wliich ovei'looks the south-west coast from the 
ramparts of Antioch.'^^ It was one of the quarters of 
the town which least abounded in |)agan monuments. 
T lere we saw the remains of ancient sanctuaries dedi- 
cated to St. Peter, Sr. Paul, and St. John. There ap- 
])ea?"ed to have been the quarter where Ciiristianity 
was longest maintained after the Mohammedan con- 
quest. There too, as it appeared, was the quarter of 
"the saints," in opposition to the general profanity of 
Antioch. The rock is honeycombed like a beehive, 
with grottoes forniei'ly used by the Anclntrites. When 



204. 



THE ArOSTLES. 



one walks on these steeply cnt declivities, where, about 
the fourth century, the good Stylites, disciples at once 
of India and of Galilee, of Jesus and of Cakya-Mouni, 
disdainfully contemplated the voluptuous city from the 
summit of their pillar or from their flower-adorned 
cavern,'^'^ it is probable that one is not fiirfrom the very 
spots where Peter and Paul dwelt. The Church of 
Antiocli is the one whose history is most authentic and 
least encumbered with fables. Christian ti'adition, in 
a city where Christianity was perpetuated with so. 
much vigor, ought to possess some value. The pre- 
vailing language of the Church of Antioch was the 
Greek. It is, however, quite probable that the suburbs 
where Syriac was spoken furnished a number of con- 
verts to the sect. In consequence, Antioch already 
contained the germ of two rival and, at a later period, 
hostile Churches, the one speaking Greek, and now 
represented by the Syrian Greeks, whether orthodox or 
Catholics ; the other, whose actual representatives are 
the Maronites, having previously spoken Syriac and 
guarding it still as if it were a sacred tongue. The 
Maronites, who under their entirely modern Catholi- 
cism conceal a high antiquity, are probably the last 
descendants of those Syrians anterior to Seleucus, of 
those suburbans or pagani of Ghisra, Charandama, 
etc. who from the first ages became aseparate Church, 
were persecuted by tlie orthodox emperors as heretics, 
and escaped into the Libanus,'^^ or, from hatred of the 
Grecian Church and in consequence of deeper sympa- 
thies, allied themselves with the Latins. 

As to the converted Jews at Antioch, they were also 
very numerous.*^ But we must believe that they ac- 



THE APOSTLES. 



20'} 



cepted from tlie very first a fraternal alliance with the 
Gentiles.^ It was then on the shores of the Oroiites 
that the religions fusion of races, dreamed of hy Jesus, 
or to speak more fully, by six centuries of prophets, 
became a reality. 



CHAPTEE XIII. 



THE IDEA OF AN APOSTOLATE TO THE GKNTILES. — SAINl 
BARNABAS. 

Great was tlie excitement at Jenisaleni^ on hearing 
what had passed at Antioch. Notwithstanding the 
kindly wislies of a few of the principal members of the 
Church of Jei'iisalem, Petei- in particular, the A})osto- 
lic C'>lh'ge continued to he influenced by mean and 
nnworth)- ideas. On evei\y occasion when they heard 
that the good news had been announced to the heathen, 
these veteran Chi'istians manifested signs of disap- 
])ointment. The man who this time triumphed over 
this miserable jealousy, and wh(~> prevented the nari-ow 
exclusi veness of the Hebrews " from ruining the fu- 
ture* of Christianity, was Barnabas. He was the most 
enlightened metnbcr f)f the C'lurch at Jei'usalem. He 
w;!S the chief of the liberal ami pi-ogressive, party, and 
wished the Churcli to be open to all. Already he had 
powei'fully contributed to j-emove the mistrust with 
v, hich Paul whs I'egarded ; and this time, also, he excited 
a mHi'ked influence. Sent as a delegate of the aposto- 
lical l)ody to Antioch, he examined and appi'oved of 
all that had been done, and declared that the new 
Chni'ch had otdy to continue in the course npon which 
it bad entered. Conversions wci-e eff^'Cted in great 
numbers. The viral and creative f )rce of Chi'istianity 
appeared to be concentrated at Antioch. B irnabas, 



THE ArosrLES. 



207 



whose zeal always inclined to action, resided tliere. 
Antiocli tliencefortli is liis Clinrch, and it is tlience 
that lie exercised liis most inflnential and ini})ortant 
ministry. Clii'istianity has always done injustice to 
this man in not placing him in the first rank ot* her 
founders, Barnabas was the pati'on of all good and 
liberal ideas. His intelligent boldness often sei'ved 
to neutralize the obstinacy of the narrow- miniled 
Jews who f)rmed the conservative l)arty of Jerusalem. 

A mngiiificeiit idea germinated in this noble heart 
at Antiocli. Paul was at Tarsus in a f )rced re])ose, 
which to an active man like him, was a perfect torture. 
His false |)osition, his iiaughtiness, and his exaggerated 
j^retensions, had neutralized many of his other and 
better qualities. lie was uselessly wearing his life 
away ; Barnabas knew how to apply to its true work 
that force which was coi-roding Paul in his unhealthy 
and dangerous solitude. F^v the second time, Barna- 
bas took the hand of Paul, and led this savage charac- 
ter into the society of those bi'ethren whom he avoided. 
He went himself to Tarsus, sought him out, and 
brought him to Antiocli. lie did that whic'i those 
obstinate old brethren of Jerusalem were never able 
to do. To win over this great, i-eticent, and suscei>ti- 
ble soul; to accommodate oneself to the caprices and 
whims of a man full of tiery excitement, but very per- 
sonal ; to take a secondai-y [)art under him, and fu-get- 
ful of oneself, to prepare the iield of operations f)r the 
most favorable display of his abilities — all this is cer- 
tainly the very climax of virtue ; and this is what Bar- 
nabas did f)r Paul. Most of the glory which has 
accrued to the latter is really due to the modest man 



203 THE APOSTLES. 

who Icil liim foi'Wiird, brought liis merits to light, pry- 
vented more than once his I'aiilts from resulting deplo- 
I'ably to himself and his cause, and the illiberal views 
of others from exciting him to revolt ; and also prevented 
his insignificant and unworthy personalities from inter- 
fering with the work of God. 

During an entire year Barnabas and Paul co- 
operated actively.^ This was without doubt a most 
brilliant and happy year in the life of Paul. The 
prolific originality of these two great men raised the 
Church of Antioch to a degree of grandeur to which no 
Chi'istian Church had previoubly attained. Few places 
in the world had experienced more intellectual activity 
than the cai)ital of Syria. Diiring the Roman epoch, 
as in our time, social and religious questions were 
brought to the surface piincipally at the centres of 
population. A sort of reaction against the general im- 
morality which later made Antioch the special ab( de 
of stylites and hei'mits* was already felt; and the ti ue 
doctrine thus found in this city moi-e favorable con li- 
tlons for success than it had yet met. 

An important circumstance proves besides, that it 
was at Antioch that the sect for the first time had fall 
consciousness of its existence; for it was in this city 
that it received a distinct name. Hitherto its adhe- 
rents had called themselves believers," " the faith- 
ful," "saints," "brothers," or disciples; but the sect 
had no public and official name. It was at Antioch 
that the title of Chridianus was devised.^ The termina- 
tion of the word is Latin, not Greek, which would indi- 
cate that it was selected by the Roman authority as an 
appellation of the police*' like Ilcrodlani^ Poinjjeiani, 



THE APOSTLES. 



209 



CoBsarianiJ In any event it is certain tluit such a name 
was formed bj the heathen popuhition. It included a 
misapprehension, for it implied that C'^ridus^ a transla- 
tion of the Hebrew Masohiah (the Messiah), Avas a 
pi-oper naine.^ Xot a few of those who were unfami- 
liar with Jewish or Christian ideas, by this name were 
led to believe that Christus or Chrestus was a sectarian 
leader yet living.^ The vulgar pronunciation of the 
name indeed was Chrestiani}^ 

The Jews did not adopt in a regular manner, at least," 
the name given by the Eomans to their schismatic co- 
religionists. They continued to call the new converts 
''Nazarenes" or " Kazorenes,''^^ undoubtedly because 
they were accustomed to call Jesus Han-nasri or Ilaii- 
nosri, "the Xazarene;" and even nnto the ])resent 
day this name is still applied to them throughout the 
entire East.^^ 

Tliis was a most important moment. Solemn indeed 
was the hour when the new creation received its name, 
for that name is the direct symbol of its existence. It 
is by its name that an individual or a coininuiiiry really 
becomes itself as distinct fj-om others. The formatiou 
of the word " Christian " "also marks the precise date 
of the separation from Judaism of the Church of 
Jesus. For a long time to come the two religions will 
be confounded ; but this confusion will only take ])lace 
in those countries where the spread of Christianity is 
slow and backward. The sect quickly accepted the 
appellation whicli was applied to it, aiid viewed it [is 
a title of honor.^"^ It is really astonishing to reflect 
that ten years after the death of Jesus His religion had 
already in the capital of Syria, a name in the Gre*.k 



210 THE APOoTLES. 

and Latin tongues. Christianity is now completely 
wejined from its mother's breast ; tlie true sentiments 
of Jesus have triumphed over the indecision of its first 
disciples; the Church of Jerusalem is left behind; the 
Aramaic language, in which Jesus spoke, is unknown 
to a portion of His followers ; Christianity speaks 
Greek ; and the new sect is finally launched into that 
great vortex of the Greek and Roman world, whence 
it will never issue. 

Tlie feverish activit}^ of ideas manifested by this young 
Church was truly extraordinary. Great spiritual mani- 
festations were ffcquent.^^ All believed themselves to 
be inspired in different ways. Some were " prophets," 
others "teachers/"*' Barnabas, as his name indicates,'^ 
was undoubtedly among the prophets. Paul had no 
special title. Among the leaders of the church at An- 
tioch may also be mentioned Simeon, surnanied N'ujer^ 
Lucius of Cirene, and Menahem, who had been the fos- 
tei'-brother of Herod Antipns, and was natui-ally qinle 
old.^^ All these personages were Jew^s. Among the 
converted heathen was, perhaps, already that Evhode, 
who, at a certain period, seems to have occupied a lead- 
ing place in the Church of Antioch.'^ Undoubtedly the 
heath(m who heard the first preacliing were slightly in- 
ferior, and did not shine in the public exercises of using 
unknown tongues, of preaching, and pro{)he('y. In 
the midst of the congenial s= )ciety of Antioch, Paul quickly 
adapted himself to the order of things. Later, he mani- 
fested ()p])nsition t.) the use of tongues, and it is proba- 
ble that he never practised it; but he had many visions 
and immediate revelations.^^ It was apparently at An- 
tioch that occurred that ecstatic trance which he describes 



THE APOSTLES. 



211 



in these terms: "I knew a man in Christ above foui-teci. 
3'ears ugo (whether in the body I cannot tell ; or wlie 
ther out of the bocW, I cannot tell — God knowetli). 
Such an one was caught up to the third heaven.^ And I 
knew such a man (whether in the body or out of the; 
body I cannot tell — God knowcth), how that he 
caught up into pai'adise^^ and lieard unspeakable words 
which it is not lawful for a man to utter. "^^ Paul, though 
in general sober and practical, shared the prevalent ideas 
of the day in regard to the supernatural. Like so many 
others, he believed that he possessed the power of work- 
ing miracles; it was impossible that the gift of the Holy 
Spirit, which was acknowledged to be the common right 
of the Church,^'' should be denied to him. 

But men permeated with so lively a faith cannot con- 
tent tlie^mselves with merely exuberant piety, but pant 
for action. The idea of great missions, destined to con- 
vert the heathen, and beginning in Asia Minor, seized 
hold of the public mind. Had such an idea been formed 
at Jerusalem, it could not have been realized, because 
the Church there was without pecuniary resources. An 
extensive establishment of propagandism requires a solid 
capital to work on. Now, the common treasury at 
Jerusalem was devoted to the support of the poor, and 
was frequently insufficient for that purpose ; and to save 
these noble mendicants from dying with hunger, it was 
necessary to obtain help from all quarters.^^ Commu 
nism had created at Jerusalem an irremediable poverty and 
a thorough incapacity for great enterprises. The Church 
at Antioch was exempt from such a calamir}^ The 
JeWs in the profane cities had attained to affluence, and 
in some cases had accumulated vast fortunes.^^ The 



212 



THE APOSTLES. 



foitlifal were wealthy when they entered the Chureh: 
Antioch furnished the pecuniary capital for the founding 
of Christianit}^, and it is eas_y to imngine the total differ- 
ence in manner and spirit which this circumstance nione 
would create between tiie two churches. Jerusalem re- 
main', d the city of the poor of God, of the ebionim of 
those simple Galilean dreamers, intoxicated, as it were, 
with the expectation of the kingdom of Heaven.^" Anti- 
och, almost a stranger to the words of Jesus, which it had 
never heard, was the church of action and of progress. 
Antioch was the city of Paul ; Jerusalem, the seat of 
the old apostolic college, w^rapped up in its dreamy fan- 
tasies, and unequal to the new problems which were open- 
ing, but dazzled by its incomparable privileges, and rich 
in its unsurpassed recollections. 

A certain circumstance soon brought all these traits 
into bold relief. So great was the lack of forethought 
in this half-starved Church of Jerusalem, that the least 
accident threw the community into distress. Now in 
a country, destitute of economic organization, where 
commerce is almost without development, and where 
the sources of welfare are limited, famines are inevita- 
ble. A terrible one occurred in the reign of Claudius, 
in the year 44.^' When its threatening symptoms 
appeared, the veterans at Jerusalem decided to seek 
succor from the members of the richer churches of 
Syi-ia. An embassy of prophets was sent from Jerusa- 
lem to Antioch.''^ One of them, named Agab, who 
was in high reputation for his pr(^phetic powers, was 
suddenly inspired, and announced that the famine was 
now at hand. The faithful were deeply moved at the 
evils which menaced the mother Church, to which 



THE APOSTLES. 



213 



tliej still deemed themselves tril^utarj. A collection was 
made, at which every one ^-dve according to his means, 
and Barnabas was selected to carry the funds obtained 
to the brethren in Jndea.^^ Jerusalem for a long tinpj 
remained the capital of Christianity. There were 
centred the objects peculiar to the faith, and there 
only were the apostles.^^ But a great forward step 
liad been taken. For several years there had been 
only one completely organized Church, that of Jerusa- 
lem — the absolute centre of the faith, the heart from 
whicli all life proceeded and through which it circulated ; 
but it no longer maintained this monopoly. The church 
at Antioch was now a perfect cliurch. It possessed all 
the hierarchy of the gifts of the Holy Ghost. It was 
the starting-point of the missions,^ and their head-qnar- 
ters.^ It was a second capital, or rather a second heart, 
wliich had its own proper action, exercising its force 
and influence in every direction. 

It is easy to foresee that the second capital must soon 
eclipse the first. The decay of the chnrch at Jerusalem 
was, indeed, rapid. It is natural that institutions 
founded on communism should enjoy at the beginning 
a period of brilliancy, for communism involves high 
mental exaltation ; and it is equally natural that such 
institutions should very quickly degenerate, because 
communism is contrary to the instincts of human nature. 
During a moment of great religious excitement, a man 
readily believes that he can entirely sacrifice his selfish 
individuality and his peculiar interests ; but egorism Las 
its revenge, in proving that absolute disinterestedness 
engenders evils more serious than by the suppression 
of individual rights in property it had hoped to avoid. 



CIlAPTEll XIY. 



PERSECUTION OF IIEROD AGRIPPA THE FIRST. 

Barnabas found the Clinrch of Joiiisalem in great 
trouble. The year 44 was perilous to it. Besides the 
famine, the tires of persecution wliicli liad been smo- 
thered since tlie death of Stephen were rekindled. 

Herod Agrippa, grandson of Herod the Great, had 
succeeded, since the year 41, in reconstituting the king- 
dom of his grandfather. ThaidvS to the favor of Caligula, 
he had reunited under his domination Batania, Tracho- 
iiites,a part of the Hauran, Cibilene, Galilee, and the Per- 
sea.^ The ignoble part which he played in the tragi- 
comedy which raised Claudius to the empire,^ completed 
his fortune. This vile Oriental, in return for the lessons 
of baseness and pei'tidy he had given to Rome, obtained 
for himself Samaria and Judea, and for his brother 
Herod the kingdom of Chalcis.^ He liad left at Pome 
the worst memories, and the cruelties of Caligula were 
attributed in part to his counsels.'* The army and the 
pagan cities of Sebaste and Cesarea, vvdiich he sacrificed 
to Jerusalem, were averse to him.^ But the Jews 
found him to be generous, munificent, and sympathetic. 
He sought to render himself popular with them, and 
affected a polity quite different from that of Herod 
the Great. The latter was much more regardful of 
the Greek and Roman world than of the Jewish. 
Herod Agrippa, on the contrary, loved Jerusalem. 



THE APOSTLES. 



215 



H^nronslj- observed the Jewisli religion, affected >eru- 
puluiisne.-s, and never let a day pass without atreiidiiiu' to 
liis devotions.^ He went so far as to receive wirh mihl- 
nessthe advice of the rigorists, and took the tronbUi to 
jiisrify himself from their reproaches^ He returned to 
the Hierosolyniites tlie ti'ibute which each house owed 
tc him.^ The orthodox, in a word, had in him a king 
according to their own heart. 

It was inevitable that a prince of this character should 
persecute the Christians. Sincere or not, Herod Agrippa 
was, in the most thorough sense of the word, a Jewish 
Sovereign.^ The honse of Herod, as it became weaker, 
took to devotion. It was no longer that broad profane 
idea of the founder of the dynasty, seeking to make 
tlie most diverse i-elii^ions live too^ether under the 
common empire of civilization. When Herod Agrippa 
for the lirst time after he had become king, set foot in 
Alexandria, it was as a King of the Jews that he was 
received ; it was this title which irritated the popula- 
tion and gave rise to endless buffooneries.-^'^ ^sow what 
could a King of the Jews be, if not the guardian of the 
laws and the traditions, a sovereign theocrat and perse- 
cutor ? From the time of Herod tiie Great, under whom 
fanaticism was entirely re])ressed, until the breaking 
out of the war which led to the ruin of Jerusalem, there 
was thus a constantly augmenting progress of religious 
ardor. The death of Caligula (^ith Jan., 41) had pro- 
duced a reaction favorable to the Jews. Chiudius was 
generally benevolent towards them,^^ as a result of the 
favorable ear he lent to Herod Agrippa and Herod 
King of Chalcis. Is ot only did he decide in favor of the 
Jews of Alexandria in their quarrels with the inhabi- 



216 



THE APOSTLES. 



taiits and allow tlieni the right of choosing an ethnarch. 
but he published, it is said, an edict by which he granted 
to the Jews throngliout the whole empire that whicli he 
had granted to those of Alexaiidria ; that is to say, tho 
freedom to live according to their own laws, on the sole 
condition of not outraging other worships. Some at- 
tempts at vexations analogous to those which were 
inflicted under Caligula were repressed.'^ Jerusalem 
was gi-eatl J enlai-ged ; the quarter of Bezetha was added 
to the city.'^ The Koman authority scarcely made itself 
felt, although Yibius Marsus, a prudent man, of wide 
public ex})erience, and of a very cultivated mind,^Svho 
had succeeded Pul)lius Fetronius in the function of im- 
perial legate of Syria, drew the attention of the author- 
ities at Kome from time to time to the danger of these 
semi-independent Easiern Kingdoms.^^ 

Tlie species of feudality which, since the death of 
Tiberius, tended to establish itself in Syria and the 
neighboring countries,^^ was in fact an interruption in 
the imperial polity, and had almost uniforndy injurious 
results. The "Kings" coming to Kome were person- 
ages, and exercised there a detestable influence. The 
corruptir)n and abasement of the people, es[)ecially 
niider Caligula, proceeded in great part from the spec- 
tacle furnished by these wretches, who were seen suc- 
cessively dragging their purple at the theatre, at the 
palace of the CS^sar, and in the prisons.^^ So far as 
concej'ns the Je\vs, we have seen that autonomy meant 
intolerance. The Sovereign Pontificate quitted for a 
moment the family of Hanan, only to enter that of 
Bocthus, no less haughty and cruel. A Sovereign 
anxious to please the Jews could not fail to grant thein 



THE APOSTLES. 



217 



what tliej loved best ; that is to say, seventies against 
everytliing whicli diverged from rigorous orthodoxy.'^ 

Herod Agrippa, in fact, became towards the end of 
his reign a violent persecutor.^'^ Some time before 
Easter of the year 44:, he cut off the head of one of the 
])rincipal members of the apostolical college, James son 
of Zebedee, brother of John. The matter was not pre- 
sented as a religions one ; there was no inquisitorial 
process betbre the Sanhedrim ; the sentence, as in the 
case of John the Baptist,^^ was pronounced by virtue 
of the arbitrary power of the sovereign. Encouraged 
by tiie good effect which this execution produced upon 
the Jews,^^ Herod xVgrippa was not willing to stop upon 
so eas3" a road to popularity. It was the first days of 
the feast of Passover, ordinarily marked by a redoubled 
fanaticism. Agrippa ordered the imprisonment of 
Peter in the tower of Antonia, and sought to have him 
judged and put to death with great pomp before the 
mass of people then assembled. 

A circumstance with which we are unacquainted, 
and which was regarded as miraculous, opened Peter's 
prison. One evening, as many of the disciples were 
assembled in the house of Mary, mother of John- 
Mark, where Peter habitually dwelt, there was sud- 
denly heard a knock at the door. The servant, named 
Khoda, went to listen. She recognised Peter's voice. 
Transported with joy, instead of opening the door she 
ran back to announce that Peter was there. They re- 
garded her as mad. She swore she spoke the truth. 
''It is his angel," said some of them. The knocking 
was heard repeatedly ; it was indeed himself. Their 
delight w^as infinite. Peter immediately announced 

10 



218 



THE APOSTLES. 



his deliverance to James, brother of tlie L3rd, and to 
the other disciples. It was believed that the angel of 
God liad entered into the prison of the apostle and 
made the chains fall from his hands and the bolts fiy 
open. Peter related, in fact, all that had passed 
while he was in a sort of ecstasy ; that after liaving 
passed the first and second gnard, and overleaped the 
iron gate which led into the city, the angel accompa- 
nied liim still the distance of a street, then quitted 
him ; that then he came 'o himself agam and recog- 
nised the hand of God, who had sent a celestial mes- 
seno'er to deliver him.^* 

Agrippa survived these violences but a short time.^* 
In the course of the year 44, he went to Cesarea to 
celebrate games in honor of Claudius. The concourse 
of pen]>le was extraordinary ; and many from Tyre and 
Sidon, who had difficulties with him, came thither to 
ask pardon. These festivals were very displeasing to 
the Jews, both because they took place in the impure 
city of Cesarea, and because they were held in the 
theatre. Already, on one occasion, the king having 
quitted Jerusalem under similar circumstances, a cer- 
tain Kabbi Simeon liad proposed to declare him an 
alien to Judaism, and to exclude him from the temple. 
Herod Agrippa had carried his condescension so far as 
to place the Rabbi beside him in the theatre, in order 
to prove to him that nothing passed there contrary to 
the law,^ and thinking he had thus satisfied the 
most austere, he allowed himself to indulge his 
taste for profane pomps. The second day of the festi- 
val he entered the theatre very early in the morning, 
clothed in a tunic of silver fabric, with a marvellous 



THE APOSTLES. 



219 



brilliancy. The effect of this tunic, glitterin^r in the 
mjs of tlie rising sun, was extraordinary. The Phoeni- 
cians who surrounded the king hivislied upon Jiim 
adulations borrowed from paganism. " It is a god," 
they cried, " and not a man." The king did not testify 
liis indignation, and did not blame this expression, 
lie died live days afterwards ; and Jews and Christians 
believed that he was struck dead for not havinoj 
repelled with horror a blasphemous flattery. Christian 
tradition represents that he died of a vermicular mala- 
dy,^ the punishment reserved for the enemies of God. 
The symptoms related by Joseplius would lead rather 
to the belief that he was poisoned ; and what is 
said in the Acts of the equivocal conduct of the Phoe- 
nicians, and of the care they took to gain over Blastus, 
valet of the king, would strengthen this hypothesis. 

The death of Herod Agrippa 1. led to the end of all 
independence for Jerusalem. The administration by 
Procurators was resumed, and this regime lasted until 
the great revolt. This was fortunate for Chris- 
tianity ; for it is very remarkable that this religion, 
wdiich was destined to sustain subsequently so terrible 
a strnggle against the Roman empire, grew up in the 
shadow of the Roman principality, under its protection. 
It was Rome, as we have already several tiuies re- 
marked, which hindered Judaism from giving itself 
up fully to its intolerant instincts, and stifling the 
free instincts which were stirred w^ithin its bosom. 
Every diminution of Jewish authority was a benefit 
for the nascent sect. Cuspius Fadus, the first of this 
new scries of Procurators, was another Pilate, full of 
firmness, or at least of good-will. But Claudius con- 



220 



THE APOSTLES. 



tinned to show liimself favorable to Jewish pretensions^ 
chieflj at the instigation of the 3'onng Herod Agrippa, 
son of Ilerod Agrippa I., w^ioni he kept near to his 
person, and wlioin he greatly loved.^^ After the short 
administration of Cnspius Fadus, w^e find the functions 
of Procurator confided to a Jew^, to that Tiberius Alex- 
ander, nephew of Philo, and son of the alaharque of 
the Alexandi-ian Jews who attained to nigli functions 
and phiyed a great part in tlie political affairs of 
the century. It is true that the Jews did not like 
him; and regarded him, and with reason, as an apos- 
tate.38 

To cut short these incessantly renewed disputes, re- 
course was had to an expedient in conformity with 
sound principles. A sort of separation was made 
between the spiritual and tempoi'al. The political 
])ower remained with the procurators; but Herod, 
king of Chalcis, brother of Agrippa L, was named pre- 
fect of the temple, guardian of the pontiMcal habits, 
treasurer of the sacred fund, and invested with the 
riglit of nominating the higli-priests.^^ At his death 
(year 48), Hei-od Agrippa II., son of Herod Agrippa 
I., succeeded his uncle in his offices, which he retained 
until the great war. Claudius, in all this, manifested 
the greatest kindness. The high Roman fanctionaries 
in Syria, although not so strongly disposed as the em- 
peror to concessions, acted with great moderation. 
The procurator, Ventidius Cnmanus, carried condescen- 
sion so far as to have a soldier beheaded in the midst 
of the Jews, drawn up in line, for having torn a copy 
of the Pentateuch.^'' It was all useless, however; 
Josephus, with good reason, dates from the administra- 



THE APOSTLES. 



221 



tiou of Cumanns the disorders vvlilcli ended only with 
the destrnction of Jernsaleni. 

Christianity played no part in these tronbles.^^ But 
these troubles, like Christianity itself, were one of the 
symptoms of the extraordinary fever which devoured 
the Jewish peojde, and the Divine travail which was 
accomplishing in its midst. Never had the Jewish 
faith made such progress.^^ The temple of Jerusa- 
lem was one of the sanctuaries of the worhl, the repu- 
tation of which was most widely extended, and where 
the offerings were most liberah^ Judaism had become 
the dominant religion of various portions of Syi'ia. 
The Asmonean princes had violently converted entii-e 
populations to it (Idumoans, Itureans, etc.).^ There 
were many examples of circumcision having been im- 
posed by force ;^ the ardor for making proselytes was 
very great.^ The house of Ilerod itself powerfully 
sei'ved the Jewish propaganda. In order to many 
princesses of this family, whose wealth was immense, 
the princes of the little dynasties of Emese, of Pon- 
tus, and of Cilicia, vassals of the Romans, became 
Jews.^^ Arabia and Ethiopia counted also a great 
number of converts. The royal families of Mesene 
and ot* Adiabene, tributaries of the Parthians, were 
gained over, especially by their women.^ It w;is gene- 
rally granted that happiness was found in the know- 
ledge and practice of the lavv^^ Even when circum- 
cision was not practised, religion was moi-e or less 
niodiiied in the Jewish direction ; a sort of monothe- 
ism became the general spirit of religion in Syria. At 
Damascus, a city which was in nowise of Israelitish 
origin, nearly all the women had adopted the Jewish 



222 



THE APOSTLES. 



religion.'*^ Behind the Pharisaical Judaism there wag 
tiius Ibrmed a sort of free Judaism, of inferior qualiiy 
not knowing all the secrets of the sect bringing oidy 
its good-will and its good heart, but having a greater 
future. The situation w^as, in all respects, that of the 
Catholicism of our daj^s, in which we see, on one hand, 
narrow and proud theologians, who alone would gain 
no more souls for Catholicism than tlie Pharisees gained 
for Judaism ; on the other, pi()us lajmen, very often 
heretics w^ilhout knowing it, but full of a toucliing 
zeal, rich in good works and in poetical sentiments, 
altogether occupied in dissimulating or repairing by 
complaisant explanations the faults of their doctors. 

One of the most extraordinary examples of this ten- 
dency of religious souls towards Judaism was that given 
by the royal family of Adiabene, upon the Tiger. '^^ Thig 
house, of Persian origin and manners,*^ already partly 
initiated into Greek culture, ^ becnme entirely Jewish, 
and even preeminently devout ; for, as we have alre^tdy 
said, these proselytes were often more pious than the 
Jews by birth. Izate, chief of the family, embraced 
Judaism through the preacliiiig of a Jewish merchant 
named Ananias, who, entering the seraglio of Abermerig, 
king of Mesenc, for the purposes of his petty traffic, 
had converted all the women, and constituted himself 
their spiritual precc})tor. The women brought Izate 
into communication with him. Towards the same time 
Helen, his mother, received instruction in the true reli- 
giiHi from another Jew. Izate, with the zeal of a new 
convert, wished to be circumcised. But his mother and 
Ananias vehemently dissuaded him from it. Ananias 
proved to him that the observation of God's command 



THE APOSTLES. 



223 



ments was of more importance than circumcision, anJ 
that he might be a very good Jew witliout this ceremony 
Such a tolerance was the privilege of a small numlier of 
enlightened minds. Some time after, a Jew of Galileo, 
named Eleazar, finding the king occupied in reading the 
Pentateuch, showed him by texts that he could not 
observe the law without being circumcised. Izate w;is 
convinced, and submitted immediately to the ope rati oi^-^^ 

The conversion of Izate was followed by that of his 
brother, Monobaze, and of all the femily. Towards the 
year 44, Helen came and established herself at Jerusalem, 
where she had built for the royal house of Adiabene a 
palace and family mausoleum, which still exist."^' She 
rendered herself dear to the Jews by her affibility and 
her alms. It was very edifying to see her, like a pious 
Jewess, frequenting tlie temple, consulting the doctors, 
rending the law, teaching it to her sons. Dui'ing the 
plague of the year 44, this holy personage was the pro- 
vidence of the city. She had a large quantity of wheat 
bought in Egy})t, and of dried tigs in Cyprus. Izate, 
on his part, sent considerable sums to be disti'ibuted 
among the poor. The wealth of Adiabene was in part 
expended at Jerusalem. The sons of Izate came thither 
to learn the customs and the language of the Jews. All 
tliis family was thus tlie resource of this po[)ulation of 
beggars. It acquired there a sort of citizenship ; several 
of its members were found there at the tiiuc (;f the sieo^e 
of Titus others figure in tlie Talmudic writings, pre- 
sented as models of piety and devoted n ess. 

It is thus that the royal family of Adiabene belongs 
to th3 history of Christianity. Without being Chi'istian, 
in fact, as certain traditions have represented,'^^ this 



224 



THE APOSTLES. 



family represented under various aspects the first friiitg 
of the Gentiles. In embracing Judaism, it obeyed a 
sentiment which was destined to bring over the entire 
pagan world to Christianity. The true Israelites accord- 
ing to God, were much rather these foreigners animated 
by so profoundly sincere a religious sentiment than the 
arrogant and spiteful Pharisee, for whom religion was 
but a pretext for hatred and disdain. These good pro- 
selytes, although they were truly saints, were in nowise 
fanatics. They admitted that true religion might be prac- 
tised under the empire of the most widely differing civil 
codes. They completely separated religion from poli- 
tics. The distinction between the seditious sectaries, 
who must presently defend Jerusalem with rage, and 
the devoutly pious who, at tlie first rumor of war, were 
going to flee to the mountains,^ made itself more and 
more manifest. 

We may see at least that the question as to prose- 
lytes w^as propounded in a very similar manner at once 
in Judaism and in Christianity. On both hands alike 
the void was felt for enlai'ging the door of entrance. 
For those who were placed at this point of view, cir- 
cumcision was a useless or noxious custom ; the Mosaic 
observances were simply a mask of a race having no 
value but for the sous of Abraham. Before becoming 
the universal religion, Judaism was obliged to reduce 
itself to a sort of deism, imposing only the duties of 
natural religion. Tliat was a sublime mission to fulfil, 
and to it a portion of Judaism, in the first half of the 
first century, lent itself in a very intelligent manner. 
On one side, Judaism was one of those innumerable 
national worships^^ of which the world is full, and the 



THE APOSTLES. 



sanctify of wliicli spi'ings so'ely from tlie fact tliat the 
aiicestoi's liacl adored in the same way ; on another 
side, JiKhiism was the absolnte I'cligion, made for all, 
destined to be adopted bj all. The teiTible flood of 
fanaticism which spread over Judea, and which led to 
the war of extermination, cnt short this futnre. It was 
Christianity which took upon its own account the task 
which the synagogue had been unable to accomplish. 
Laying aside ritual questions, Christianity continued 
the monotheistic propaganda of Judaism. That wdiich 
had caused the success of Judaism with the women of 
Damascus in the seraglio of Abenverig, with Helen, 
with so many pious proselytes, became the force of 
Christianity throughout an entire world. In this sense 
the glory of Christianity is truly confounded with that 
of Judaism. A generation of fanatics deprived this 
latter of its recompense, and hindered its gathering 
the harvest it had prepared. 

10* 



CHAPTEE XY. 



MOVEMENTS PARALLEL TO AND IMITAITVE OF CHKISIIANITY— 
SIMON OF GITTO. 

We have now ari'ived at a period when Christianity 
]naj be said to have beconie establi.^lied. In the history 
of I'eh'gions it is oidy tlie earliest yeai's during wdiieli 
tlieir existence is precarious. If a creed can t]'iuni})h- 
antly pass through tlie severe ordeals which await eveiy 
new system, its future is assured. With sounder judg- 
ment than other coteniporary sects, such as the Essenes, 
the Baptists, and the followei-s of Judas the Gaulonite, 
who clung to and perished with the Jewish institutions, 
the founders of Chi'islianity disphiyed I'are prevision 
in going forth at an early ])eriod to disseminate and 
root their new o})inions over the broad expanse of the 
Genlile woi'ld. Tiie nieagreness of the allusions to 
Christianily which are found in Josephus, in the Talmud, 
and in the Greek and Latin writers, need not sui-prise 
ns. Josephus is transmitted to us by Chi-istian coi)yists, 
wdio have omitted everything uncomplimentary to their 
faith. It is possil)le that he wi'ote more at length con- 
cerning Jesus and the Christians than is jireserved in 
the edition which has been handed down to us. The 
Talmud in like manner, during the Middle Age, and 
after its first publication, underwent much abridgment 
and alteration.^ Tliis resulted from the severe criticisms 
of the text by Christian wi'iters, and froui ^he burning 



THE ArOSTLES. 



227 



of a nuniber of uiiliickv Jews w;io were found in pDS' 
session of ti work containing wluit were considered 
Llasphemous passages. As to the Greek and Latin 
writers, it is not surprising tliat they paid little attentio'i 
to a nioveraent which they could not comprehend, and 
wliich was going on within a narrow space foreign tc 
tliein. Christianity was lost to their vision upon tlie 
dark background of Judaism. It was only a family 
quarrel amongst the subjects of a degraded nation ; 
why trouble themselves about it? The two or three 
passages in which Tacitus and Suetonius mention the 
Cliristians show that the new sect, even if generally 
beyoTid the visual circle of full publicity, was, notwith- 
standing, a prominent tact, since we are enabled at 
intervals to catch a glimpse of it detining itself with 
considerable clearness of outline through the mist of 
public inattention. 

The I'elief of Cliristianity above the general level of 
Jewisli history in the first century has also been sonie- 
Avhat diminished, by the fact that it was not the only 
movement c)f the kind. At the epoch we have arrived 
at, Philo had finished his career, so wholly consecrated 
to the love of virtue. The sect of Jndas the Gauh)iiite 
srill existed. This agitator had left the perpetuation 
of his ideas to his sons, James, Simon, and Monalieni. 
riie two former were crucified by command of the 
renegade procurator Tiberius Alexander.^ Menahem 
remained, and is destined to play an important part in 
rhe final catastrophe of the nation.^ In the year 4-1, 
an enthusiast by the name of Tlieudas arose, announcing 
tlie speedy deliverance of the Jews, calling on the 
f.eople to f )llow him to the desert, and promising like 



228 



THE APOSTLES. 



a second Joshua to cause them to pass dry-shed acrosa 
the Jordan."' This passage was, according to him, tlie 
true baptism which should admit every believer inlo 
the kingdom of God. More than four hundred persons 
followed him. The procurator Ouspius Fadus sent out 
against him a troop of horse, which dispersed his disci- 
ples and slew him.^ A few years before this Samaria 
had been stirred by the voice of a fanatic, who pre- 
tended to have had a revelation of the spot on Mount 
Gerizim where Moses had concealed the sacred instru- 
ments of worship. Pilate suppressed this movement 
with great severity.^ 

In Jerusalem, tranquillity was at an end. From the 
arrival of the procurator Yentidius Cumanus (a. D. 48), 
disturbances were incessant. The excitement reached 
such a point that it became almost impossible to live 
there ; the most trifling occurrences brought about ex- 
plosions.^ People everywhere felt a strange fermenta- 
tion, a kind of mysterious foreboding. Impostors sprang 
up on every side.^ That fearful scourge, the society of 
zealots or stearic began to appear. Wretches armed 
with daggers mingled in the crowds, gave the fatal 
thrust to their victims, and were the first to cry murder. 
Hardly a day passed that some assassination of tliis kind 
was not told of. An extraordinary terror spread around. 
Josephus speaks of the crimes of the zealots as pure 
wickedness;^ but it cannot be doubted that they sprang 
in part from fanaticism. It was to defend the law 
and the testimony that these wretches drew the poni- 
ard. Whoever was wanting in their view in one ot 
the requirements of the law, was judged and at once 
executed. They believed that in so doing they were 



THE APOSTLES. 



229 



rendering a service most meritorious and pleasing to 
God. 

Dreams like those of Theudas occurred everywhere. 
Men calling themselves inspired, drew the people after 
them into the desert, under the pretext of showing 
them by manifest signs that God was about to de- 
liver them. The Homan authorities exterminated the 
dupes of these agitators in crowds.^^ An Egyptian 
Jew who came to Jei'usalera about the year 56, suc- 
ceeded by his devices in drawing after him thii-ty 
thousand persons, among whom were four thousand 
zealots. From the desert he w^as going to lead them 
to the Mount of Olives, that they might thence be- 
hold the walls of Jerusalem crumble at his com- 
mand. Felix, wdio was at that time procurat<n', 
marched against him, and dispersed his band. The 
Egyptian escaped and was seen no more.^^ But, as we 
see in a diseased body one malady succeed another, 
soon afterwards there appeared here and there troops 
of magicians and robbers, who openly excited the 
people to revolt, and threatened with death those who 
should continue to obey the Roman authorities. Under 
this pretext they murdered and pillaged the rich, burned 
villages, and tilled all Judea with the marks of their 
outrages.^^ A terrible war seemed impending. A 
spirit of madness reigned everywhere, and the imagi- 
nation of the people was kept in a state bordering ou 
lunacy. 

It is not impossible that Thendas may have had an 
idea of imitating the acts of Jesus and John the Bap- 
tist. At any rate such an imitation is evident in the 
accounts of Simon of Gitto, if we may credit the Chris- 



230 



THE APOSTLES. 



tian traditions. We liave already encountered liirn 
in conmiunication with tlie apostles on the lirst mission 
ofPliilip to Samaria. lie attained his celebrity during 
the reign of the Emperor Claudins.^^ His miracles were 
unqnestioned, and all Samaria regarded him as a super- 
natural being.^^ 

Miracles were not, however, the only basis of his 
renown. He taught a doctrine, it seems, of wliich it 
is difficult tor us to acquire a definite knowledge, in a 
treatise entitled ''The Great Exposition," which is 
ascribed to liim, and a few extracts from which liave 
come ch)wn to us, being probably only a modified 
ex])ression of his ideas. ^' During his sojouj'u at Alex- 
andria, where lie studied the Grecian philosophy, he 
appears to have framed a system of synci'clic theology 
and allegorical exegesis, in many respects analogous 
to that of Philo.^^ His system is not without sublimity. 
Sometimes it reminds us of the Jewish Kabala, some- 
times of the pantheistic theories of Indian ])hilosophy ; 
and in f)ther respects it resembles that of the Buddhists 
and the ParseesJ^ The ])rimal being is, " He wlio is, 
has been, and shall be,"^' i.e. the Jah-veh of the Sama- 
ritans, understood accoiding to the et^'mological force 
of the name, as the eternal and only Being, self-begot- 
ten, self-augmenting, self-seeking, Jind self-finding — he 
father, mother, sister, spouse, and son of himself.^^ In 
this infinite being, all things exist potentially to all 
eternity; and ]>ass into action and reality through 
human conscience, reason, langu;ige, and science.^^ The 
nniver*-e is explained either upon tire basis of a hier- 
archy of abstract ])rinciples like the^< ns of Gnosticism 
and the Sephirotic tree of the Ivabala, or upon that 



TIIK APJSTLES. 



231 



of an ord'vii- of angels apparently borrowed from the 
Persian doc'rine. Sometimes tliese absti'actions ai'e 
pi-esented as reprL-sentatiuns of physical and physiolo- 
gical facts. Elsewhere, the ^'divine powers," con- 
sidered as distinct substances, are realized in successive 
incarnations, either in the male or female form, whose 
end is the emancipation of those beings which are 
enslaved in the bonds of material existence. The 
highest of these ''Powers" is called ''the Great," 
wJiich is the univei-sal Providence, the intelligent soul 
of tliis worliL^"' It is masculine. Simon ])assed for an 
incarruition of this S])irit. Li coiincxion with it is its 
feminip.e counterpai-t, '' the Gi'eat Thought." Accus- 
tr)med to clo!he his theories in a strange symbolism, 
and to devise allegorical interpretations f »r the ancient 
writings both saci'ed and pi-ofane, Simon, or whoever 
was the author of "The Great Exposition," ascj-ibed to 
this Divine existence the nasae ot* '* Ilelen-i," thereby 
signitying that she was the ohject of universal pursuit, 
the eternal cause of dispute anu>ng men, and that she 
avenged lierseU" on her enemies by deprivin.g th.em of 
sight until the moment tlK-y consented to i-ecant;^' — a 
strange theoiy, and one wliich, imperfectly understood 
or designedly travestied, gave rise among the early 
Fathers of the Church to the most puerile legends.^' 
Tlie acquaintance with Greek literature }K)Ssessed by 
the author of " The Great Ex})osition " is at all events 
very remarkable. Jle C(nitended that, rightly undei'- 
Btood, the heathen writings sufficed for the knowledge 
of all tliings.^'^ His broad eclecticism enibi-aced all 
revelations, and sought to combine them into one sole 
and universal system of accepted truths. 



232 



THE APOSTLES. 



Ill's plan was essentially quite similar to tliat ot 
Yalentinns, and to the doctrines in regard to the Divine 
Persons which are found in the fourth Gospel, in Tliilo, 
and in the Targums.^' The '* Metatronos," ^"^ which the 
Jews placed at the side of the Deity, and almost in his 
bosom, strongly resembles "The Grreat Power." ]n 
Samaritan theology we find a Great Angel, who presides 
over other angels, and we find also a variety of manifes- 
tations or "Divine Virtues," analogous to those of the 
Kabala.^^ It appears certain, then, that Simon of Gitto 
was a theosophistof the type of Philo and the Kabalists. 
Perhaps he may have come near to Christianity, l>ut cer- 
tainly he did not attach himself to it in any deftued way. 

Whether he actually borrowed anything from the 
disciples of Jesus, is ditiicult to decide. If " Tlie Gi'eat 
Exposition " is the expression of his ideas in any degree, 
it must be admitted that upon several points he is in 
advance of the Christian ideas, and that upon others he 
adopts tliem with much fulness.^^ lie seems to have 
attempted an eclecticism similar to that which Mahomet 
afterwards adopted, and to have l)ased his religious 
action npon the preliminary belief in the divine mission 
of John and of Jesus.^^ He professed to bear a mystic 
relation to them. He asserted, it is said, that it was he 
himself who appeared to the Samaritans as the Father, 
to the Jews by the visible crucifixion of the Son, and to 
the Gentiles by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.^^ 
He also, it would seem, prepared the way for the doc- 
trine of the " Docetge." He claimed to have suffered 
in Judea in the person of Jesus, but that his suffering 
was only apparent.^^ These pretensions to Divinity 
and claims of adoration have probably been exagge- 



THE APOSTLES. 



283 



rjitcjd by the Christians, who have in evcjy way scmgl.t 
to cover Iiim with odium. 

The doctrine of "the Great Exposition" is that of 
nearly all the Gnostic writings ; and if Simon really pro- 
fessed that doctrine, it is with good reason that the Fathers 
charged him with being the founder of Gnosticism.^ It 
is our belief that the " Exposition " has onlj^ a relative 
authenticity; that it is to the doctrine of Simon very 
nearl}^ what the fourth Gospel is to the ideas of Jesus; 
and that it dates from the earlier j^ears of the second 
centur}^, the epoch when the theosophic notions of tlie 
Logos acquired a definite ascendency. These notions, of 
which we shall find the germ in the Christian Church 
about the 3'ear 60,'^^ niay, however, have been known to 
Simon, whose career was probably prolonged until the 
close of the century. 

The notion then that we obtain of this enigmatic per- 
sonage is, that he was a kind of plagiarist of Christiani- 
ty. Imitation seems to have been a constant habit of 
the Samaritans.^^ In the same manner as they had al- 
waj'S been imitators of the Jewish ceremonies of Jerusa- 
lem, so these sectaries had also their copy of Christianity, 
their Gnosis, their theosophic speculations, and their 
Kabala. Dut we sh;dl probably remain for ever igno- 
rant whether Simon was a respectable imitator, who just 
fell short of success, or only an immoral and insincere 
jiiggler, who was working f()r his own profit and cele- 
brity a docti'ine stitched together out of the I'ags of othei 
systems.^'' lie thus assumes in history a most dilficult 
position ; he walks on a tight-rope, where no hesitalloa 
is permitted; in such a ease there is no midway path 
between ridiculous failure and triumphant success. 



234 



THE APOSTLES. 



We have yet to examine whether the legends relative 
to Simon's sojourn at Rom.e comprise any truth. It is 
at least certain that the Simonian sect continued as far 
down as the third century that it possessed churches as 
far as Antioch — perhaps even at Eome; and that Me- 
uander of Capharetes and Cleobius^^ sustained the same 
doctrine, or at least imitated Simon's performance as 
theurgist with more or less recurrence in type to the acta 
of Jesus and the apostles. Simon and his followers were 
in great esteem among their co-religionists. Sects of 
the same kind, parallel with Christianity,'^'^ and more or 
less tinctured with Gnosticism, continued to spring up 
among the Samaritans, until their almost total destruc- 
tion by Justinian. It was the lot of this little religious 
community to receive an impression from everything 
that happened in its vicinity, without producing aiiy- 
thinu^ altotrether (^rii^inal. 

As to Christians, the memory of Simon was amongst 
them an abomination. Those illusions of his which so 
closely resembled theii- own, were irritating to them. 
To have competed with the success of the apostles was 
the most unpardonable of crimes. They pretended 
that the wonders performed by Siinon and his disciples 
were works of the devil, and they branded the Samari- 
tan theosophist with the title of " Sorcerer,"^^ which 
liis believers took in high dudgeon. The entire Ciiris- 
tian account of Simon hears the imprint of concentrat- 
ed hatre'l. The maxims of quietism were ascribed to 
him, w^ith the excesses which are generally supposed to 
be their consequence. He was considered the father 
of all error, the primitive heresiarch. They delighted iu 
recountmg bio ludicrous adventures, and his defeats by 



THE APOSTLES. 



235 



the apostle Peter,'^^ and attributed to the vilest motives 
his apparent tendency towards Ciiristianity. The} 
were so preoccupied with his name that they read it at 
random upon columns where it did not exist.'^ The 
Bymbolism in wliich he had clothed his ideas was inter- 
preted in the most grotesque way. The "Helena," 
whom he identified with " The First Intelligence," be- 
came a girl of the town purchased by him in the 
streets of Tyre."^ Ilis very name, hated nearly as much 
as that of Judas, and used as a synonym of Anti-apos- 
tle^^^ became the grossest word of abuse and a prover- 
bial expression to designate a professional impostor or 
adversary of truth wliom it was desired to refer to 
under a disguise.'*^ He was the first enemy of Chris- 
tianity, or rather the first personage whom Christianity 
treated as such. It is sufHcient to say that neither 
pious frauds nor calumny were spared in defaming 
liim.^ Criticism in such a case need not attempt a 
rehabilitation ; it has no documents on the other side. 
All it can do is to show the physiognomy of the tradi- 
tions and the set purpose of abuse which they display. 

At least it should prevent the loading of the memory 
of the Samaritan theurgist with a resemblance which 
may be only accidental. In a story related by Josephus, 
a Jewish sorcerer named Snnon, a native of Cyprus, 
plays for the procurator Felix tlie part of a Pandarus.*^^ 
The circumstances of this story do not accord well enough 
with what is known of Simon of Gritto, to make him re- 
sponsible for the acts of a person who may have had 
nothing in common with him but a name borne by thou- 
sands, and a pretension to supernatural powers, which was 
unfortunately shared by a crowd of his cotemporaries. 



CHxVPTER X7I. 



GENERAL PROGRESS OF THE CHRISTIAN MISSIONS. 

We have seen Barnabas leaving^ Antioch in order to 
carry to the faithful at Jerusalem the contiioutions of 
their brethren in Syria, and arriving at Jerusalem in 
time to be present at several of the excitements occa- 
sioned there by the persecution of Herod Agrippa.^ 
Let us now follow him again to Antioch, where, at this 
period, all the creative energy of the sect seems to have 
been concentrated. 

Bai-nabas took back a zealous assistant, his cousin 
John-Mark, the disciple of Peter,^ and the son of that 
Mary at whose house the chief apostle loved to stay. 
Doubtless in calling this new co-worker to his aid, he had 
already in view 'the great entei'prise in which they were 
to embark. Perhaps he foresaw the disputes it would 
occasion, and was well pleased to engage in it one who 
was understood to be the ris^ht hand of Peter, whose 
influence' in general matters was predominant. 

The enterprise itself v/as no less than a series of great 
missions starting from Antioch and seeking the conver- 
sion of the world. Like all the great resolves of the 
early Chu ch, this idea was ascribed to a direct inspira- 
tion of tlje Holy Ghost. A special call, a supernatural 
election, was believed to have been vouchsafed to the 
Church of Anti(jcn while engaged in fasting and prayer. 
Perhaps one of the prophets of the Church, Menahem, 



THE APOSTLES. 



237 



or Lucius, uttered under tbe power of the gift of tongue? 
the words intimating that Paul and Barnabas were pre- 
destined to this mission.^ Paul was convinced that God 
bad chosen him from his mother's womb for this task, 
to which thenceforth he exclusively devoted himself.'* 

The two apostles took with them, as an assistant in 
tlie details of their enterprise, the John-Mark whom 
Barnabas had brought from Jerusalem.^ When the 
preparations were completed, after fasting and prayer, 
and laying on of hands as a sign of the authority confer- 
red by the Church itself on the apostles,*^ they were com- 
mended to the grace of God, and set out.^ Whither 
they should journey, and what races they should evan- 
gelize, is what we are now to learn. 

The early missions were all directed westward, or in 
other words adopted the Homan empire for their scene 
of operations. Excepting some small provinces between 
the Tigris and the Euphrates under the rule of the 
Arsacides, the Parthian countries received no Christian 
missions during the first century.^ Until the reigns of 
the Sassanides, Christianity did not pass eastward 
beyond the Tigris. This important fact was due to two 
causes, the Mediterranean sea, and the Roman empire. 

Eor a thousand years the Mediterranean had been 
the great pathway of ideas and civilizations. The 
Komans, in extirpating its pirates, had rendered it an 
unequalled method of intercourse. A numerous coast- 
ing-marine made it very easy to pass from point to point 
on the borders of this immense lake. The comparative 
safety of the imperial highways, the protection afforded 
by the civil authority, the dilfnsion of the Jews around 
the Mediterranean coasts, the spreading of the Greek 



238 



THE APOSTLES. 



language over their eastern portion, and the nnit_y of 
civilization, wliich first the Greeks, and then the Roinans, 
had extended over those countries, all joined to make 
the map of the empire a map of the regions set apart 
for Christian missions, and destined to be Christianized. 
Tlie Roman world became the Christian world, and iii 
this sense the founders of the empire may be called the 
founders of the Christian monai'chy. Every province 
Conquered by the empire was a conquest for Christianity. 
Had the apostles been placed in |)resence of an inde- 
pendent Asia Minor; of a Greece or an Italy divided 
int(~> a hundred little republics ; of a Gaul, Spain, Africa ; 
of Egypt with her ancient institutions — ^we cannot con- 
ceive of their succeeding, or even imagine that such a 
project could have been seriously formed. The unity 
of the empire was the preliminary condition of all great 
religious convei'sions which should transcend lines of 
liationality. This the enqjire saw clearly in the fourth 
century; it became Christian, It perceived that it had 
established Christianity without knowing it; a religifui 
conterminous with the Roman territory, identified wiih 
the empire, and capable of inspiring it with new life. The 
Church, on the other hand, became entirely Roman, and 
has remained down to our own day as a fragment of the 
empire. Had any one told Paul that Claudius was his 
chief cooperator, or Claudius that the Jew just setting 
out from Antioch was about to found the most enduring 
part of the imperial structure, both would have been 
njuch astonished. Nevertheless both sayings would 
have been true. 

Syria was the first country out of Judea in which 
Christianity became naturally established. This was 



THE APOSTLES. 



239 



an evident resnlt of the vicinity of Palestine nnd ol the 
great number of Jews living in Syria.'*^ The apostles 
visited Cyprns, Asia Minor, Macedonia, Greece, and 
Italy next in order, and only a few years after. Southern 
Ganl, Spain, and the coast of Africa, although made 
acquainted with the Gospel at an early period, may bo 
considered as of a more recent epoch in the building up 
of the new faith. 

It was the same with Egypt. Egypt plays hardly 
any part in the apostolic history, and the niissionaries 
seem to have systematically passed it by. Although 
after the third century it was the scene of such momen- 
tous events in religious history, it was at first very 
backward in Christian progress. Apollos was the only 
teacher of Christianity who ame from the Alexandrian 
school, and he learned it during his travels.^^ The 
cause of this remarkable fact will be found in the mea- 
greness of the intercourse between the Egyptian and 
the Palestinian Jews ; and above all in the circumstance 
that Jevvish Egypt had a separate religious develop- 
ment in the teachings of Philo and the Therapeutse, 
which were its special Clirisrianity, and which indis- 
posed it to lend an attentive ear to any other.'^ As to 
heathen Egypt, her religious institutions were much 
more tenacious than those of Greco-Roman paganism.^^ 
Tlie Egyptian idolatry was yet in full vigor. It was 
almost the epoch when the enormous temples of Esneh 
and Ombos were constructed, and when the hope of 
finding a last Ptolemy, a national Messiah in the little 
Cesarion, inspired the building of Dendera and Iler- 
monthis, which will compare with the finest works of 
the Pharaohs. Christianity planted itselt everywhere 



240 



THE APOSTLES. 



upon the ruins of national feeling and local worships 
The degradation of mind in Egypt also made very rare 
those religious aspirations which opened so easy a road 
to Christianity in other regions, 

A flash of light from Syria, illumining almost at 
once the three great peninsulas of Asia Minor, Greece, 
and Italy, and soon followed by a second, which ex- 
tended over nearly the whole Mediterranean seaboard 
— such was the lirst apparition of Christianity. The 
course of the apostolic vessels was always much the 
same. The Christian preaching seems to have fol- 
lowed a road already laid out, and wdiicli is no other 
than that of the Jewish emisrration. Like a contao^ion 
which, having its point of departure at the head of the 
Mediterranean, appeai-s all at once at a number of 
separate points on the shore by a secret communica- 
tion, Christianity liad its points in a manner marked in 
advance. They were nearly all places where there 
existed colonies of Jews. The synagogue generally 
preceded the church. It was like a train of powder, 
or more correctly, an electric cord, aloiig which the 
new idea ran with almost instantaneous rapidity. 

During a century and a half Judaism, which had 
previously been contined to the East and to Egypt, 
had been spreading westward. Cyrene, Cyprus, Asia 
Minor, and certain cities of Macedonia, Greece, and 
Italy, contained large Jewish colonies.*^ The Jewg 
first exemplified that species of ])atriotism which the 
Parsees, the Armenians, and in some degree the mod- 
ern Greeks, have shown in later ages ; — a patriotism of 
great warmth, though not attached to any particular 
locality; a patriotism of a nation of merchants wan- 



THE APOSTLES, 



2^1 



dcTinor everywhere, and everywhere recoa-nisin^r each 
other as brothers : a patriotism which results in form- 
ing no great compacr ^rar^s. hut small autonomic com- 
munities within other stares. Closely associated among 
themselves, the dispersed Jews formed quasi-indepen- 
dent congregations witlhn the cities, having their own 
magistrates and their own councils, some of whom 
were invested with ]->ower3 approaching sovereignty 
itself. They dwelt in quarters by themselyes, outside 
of the ordinary jurisdiction, despised by the other 
citizens, and happy enough at home. They were rather 
poor than rich. The epoch of the great Jewish for- 
tunes had not yet arrived ; they began in Spain under 
the ^'isigoths.-^^ The monopoly of nuance by the Jews 
resulted from the lack of administrative capacity in 
the barbarians, and from the hatred manifested by 
the Church against monetary science and her superti- 
cial notions about usury. Writhing of the kind oc- 
curred in the Roman empire. But when a Jew is not 
rich, he is poor ; Ijourgeois comfort is not his forte. 
He is capable of enduring poverty ; and he is still more 
capable of combining the fiercest religious energy wirh 
the rarest commercial skill. Theological eccentricities 
are not at all inconsistent with good sense in conduct- 
ing business. In England. America, and Russia, the 
strangest sectarie-. Irvuigi^es, Latter-Day Saints, Ras- 
kohiiks, are able bu.-iness-men. 

It has always been characteristic of unadulterated 
Jewish life to produce much gaiety and cordiality. In 
that little world c>f theirs they loved each other, they re- 
vered their common history, and their reliiiious ceremo- 
nies mingled pleasantly with their chaily existence. It 

3.1 



242 



THE APOSTLES. 



was analogous to the separate commiiTiit.es wliieli still 
exist in Turkish cities, sucli as the Greek, the Arme- 
nian, and the Hebrew quarters at Smjania, where they 
are all acquainted, and live and intrigue together. In 
these little republics, religions affairs always control poli- 
tics, or rather supply the want of the latter. Amongst 
tliem a heresy is an affair of state, and a schism always 
arises out of some personal difficulty. The Romans, 
with rare exceptions, never penetrated these secluded 
quarters. The synagogues published decrees, awarded 
honors, and acted like real municipalities.^^ Their influ- 
ence was extreme. In Alexandi'ia, it is predominant in 
all the internal history of the city.^'' At Rome the Jews 
were numei^ous and constituted a body, the suppf)rt of 
which was by no means to be despised. Cicero claims 
the credit of courage for having resisted some of their 
demands.^^ Cijesar protected them, and found them 
faithfuL^*^ Tiberius was obliged, in order to control 
them, to re8(jrt to the severest measures.^^ Caligula, 
whose reion was most calamitous to them in the East, 
allowed them freedom of association at Rome.-^ Clau- 
dius, who favored them in Judea, found it necessary to 
expel them from the city.^*^ They were encountered 
everywhere,^'* and it was even said of them as of the 
Greeks, that when themselves subdued, they had suc- 
ceeded in imposing laws on their conquerors.^^ 

The feelings of the native population towards these 
foreigners were very diverse. On the one hand that 
strong sentiment of repulsion and antipathy which the 
Jews have invariably inspired where sufficiently nume- 
rous and organized, by their jealous love of isolation, 
their revengeful nature, and their exclusive habits, mani- 



THE APOSTLES. 



2i3 



fested itself with great force.^' When thej weic free 
they were in fact a [)riYileged class, for they enjoyed the 
advantages of society, without sustaining its ijurdens."'^' 
Charlatans took advantage of the curiosity inspired by 
their religious rites, and under pretence of exposing their 
secrets, acted all sorts of impostures.^^ Violent and semi- 
burlesque pamphlets, like that of x\pion, nourished the 
pagan enmity, and were too often the sources whence 
the profane historians derived their inf )rrnation.-^ The 
Jews seem to have been generall}^ suUen and full of 
complaints. They were looked upon as a secret society, 
malevolent towards others, the members of w^hich were 
pledged to push forward their own interests at any cost, 
regardless of injury to their fellow-men. Their singu- 
lar customs, their aversion to certain kinds of food, their 
filth and unpleasant odor,'^^ their religicms scruples, their 
minute observances on the Sabbath, all ap[)eared absurd 
and ridiculous.^-^ Placed under a social ban, it was a natu- 
ral consequence thatthey should care nothing about refined 
appearances. They were met everywhere travelling wdth 
garments shiny with dirt, with an awkward air, a w^eary 
mien, a cadaverous skin, and large, sunken ej'es,^' assum- 
ing a hypocritical and obsequious manner, and herd- 
ing apart with their w^omen and children, and their bundles 
and hamper, which composed their whole movable pos- 
sessions.** In the towns they exercised the meanest trades ; 
they were beggars,^^ rag-pickers, match-venders,''' and small 
peddlers. Their history and their law were alike unjustly 
reviled. Sometimes they were called cruel and supersti- 
tious f' ^ sometimes atheists and despisers of the gods.^^ 
Their hatred of images appeared purely impious. Above 
all, circumcision afiljrded a theme for endless raillery.'**^ 



THE APOSTLES. 



But such superficial estimates were not concurred in 
by every one. The Jews had as many friends as de- 
tractors. Tlieir gravity and good morals, and the sim- 
plicity of their religion, were attractive to many persons, 
who recognised in them something superior. A vast 
monotheistic and Mosaic propaganda was organized,^' 
as it were a powerful vortex around this singular race. 
The pool' Jew peddler of the Transteverine,^- setting out 
in the morning with his basket of small wares, often 
returned at eveniuo: enriched with alms from some 
pious liand.*^ Women in particular were attracted 
towards these ragged missionaries.'^ Juvenal enume- 
rates their leaning tovs^ards the Jewish reliojion as one 
of the vices of the ladies of his time.^^ Tliose who 
were converted, gloried in the treasure they had found 
and the happiness they enjoyed.'*^ The old Greek and 
Roman mind resisted stoutly ; contempt and hatred of 
Jews were the sure emotions of cultivated intellects, 
such as Cicero, Horace, Seneca, Juvenal, Tacitus, 
Quintilian, and Suetonius.'*' On the other side, the 
enormous mass of mingled populations which had be- 
come subject to the empire and to whom the old Roman 
intellect and Greek learning were foreign or indifferent, 
gladl}^ and spontaneously welcomed a community 
where they observed such touching examples of con- 
cord, charity, and mutual aid,*^ of content, industry,*^ 
and proud poverty. The institution of mendicity, 
which afterwards became entirely Christian, was at 
that time Jewish. The mendicant by profession, 
" formed to it by his mother," presented himself to 
the minds of the poets of the day as a Jew.^ 

Exemption from some civil burdens, especially mili- 



THE APOSTLES. 



245 



tar J duty, may also have contributed to cause t'le lot 
of tlie Jews to be regarded as desirable.^^ The Srate at 
that period demanded many sacrifices, and afforded few 
moral advantages or pleasures. It created an icy cold- 
ness as in a uniform and shelterless plain. Human life, 
which was so melancholy under the rule of paganism, 
reo-ained its charm and its value in the mild atmo- 
spheres of the synagogue and the Church. There wag 
little enough liberty there, it is true. The brethren 
watched each other and tormented each other unceas- 
ingly. But although the internal lite of these com- 
munities was anything but ti'anquil, it was very enjoya- 
ble, and people did not abandon it ; it had no apos- 
tates. The poor enjoyed content within its circle ; and 
dwelling in the quiet of an untroulde 1 conscience, re- 
garded riches without envy.^^ The truly democratic 
idea of tlie folly of worldly things, and the .'anity of 
riclies and profane honors, was there completely embo- 
died. They were but little acquainted with the pagan 
world, and judged it with intemperate sevei-ity. Ro- 
man civilization ap^peared to them a mass of hateful 
vicos and iniquities,'^^ just as an honest ouvru r of our 
day, imbued with socialistic declamation, pictures the 
" aristocrat " to himself in the blackest colors. But 
there was abundance of life, gaiety, an I interest 
amongst these people, and is to this moment in the 
poorest synagogues of Poland and Galicia. Their 
lack of refinement and elegance in habits was compen- 
sated for by a warm family attachment and patriarchal 
hospitality. In liigli circles, on the contrary, egotism 
and self-seeking had arrived at their fullest growth. 
The words of Zachariah were being verified, that 



216 



THE apostlp:s. 



men of all nations should " take hold of the skirt of 
him that is a Jew" and cry, bring ns to Jerusalem ! ^* 
There was not a large city where were not observed the 
Sabbath, the fast, and the other ceremonies of the He- 
brew faith.^^ Josephus ventured to challenge all who 
doubted this to look around in their own neighbor-' 
hood or even their own houses, and see if they would 
not find his assertion confirmed.^ The residence at 
Home and access to the emperor permitted to several 
members of the family of llerod, who performed their 
own rites openly, contributed much to the impunity 
enjoyed by their religion. Besides, the Sabbath pre- 
vailed as it were of necessity in localities where Jews 
resided. Their persistence in keeping their shops 
closed on that day, forced many of their neighbors to 
modify their own habits accordingly. Thus at Salonica 
it may be said that the Sabbath is observed to this da}^, 
the Jewish population being rich and nunierous enough 
to make the law, and b} the cessation of their own 
business to prescribe a day of i-e})ose. 

Almost as much as the Jew, and often in company with 
him, was theSyi'ian an aciive instrument in the conquest 
of the West by the East.^ They were sometimes con- 
founded together, and Cicero thought he had discovered 
their common trait when he called them " nations born 
to be slaves."*'-' It was that which insured to them the 
control of the future, for the future then belonged to 
the slaves of the earth. Not less characteristic of the 
Syiian, was his readiness, quickness, and the superficial 
clearness of his thought. The Syrian nature is like the 
passing imagery of the clouds. We see every moment 
certain outlines of giaceful form, but they never be« 



THE APOSTLES. 



217 



come united into a complete design. In tlie dark'iess^ 
by the flickering light of a lamp, rlie Syrian wom-in 
with her veil, her wistful eyes, and her infinite languor, 
causes a brief illusion. Afterwards, when we would 
analyse her beauty, it disappears; it cannot endiiro ex- 
amination, and it lasts only three or four years. What 
is most charming in the Syrian race is the child of five 
or six years old, contrary to Greece, where the chili 
was nothing, the youth inferior to the man, and the 
man to the ancient.^*^ Syrian intelligence attracts us at 
first with its air of promptness and vivacity, but it 
lacks fixedness and solidity, something like that " golden 
wine " of Linanus wliich causes an agreeable excitement, 
but soon palls on the taste. The true gifrs of God 
have something about them at once fine and strong, 
exciting and enduring. Greece is more appreciated 
to-day than ever before, and will be more and more 
continually. 

Many of the Syrian emigrants who were attracted 
westward in the pursuit of fortune were more or less 
attached to Judaism. Others remained faithful to the 
worship of their own village,*"^ that is, to the memory of 
some temple dedicated to a local " Jupi er ''^^ wlio was 
ordinarily the Supreme Deity designated by some 
special title and they thus carried with them a kind 
of monotheism under the disguise of their strange 
divinities. At least in compai'ison wirli the perfectly 
distinct divine pi^rsonalities of the Greek and Itoman 
polytheism, the Syrian gods being mostly synonymes 
of the sun, were almost the brothers of the one 
Deity Like their long and enervating climts, these 
Syrian rites a})poared less dry tluui the Latin and less 



248 



THE APOSTLES. 



empty tlian the Greek. The women acquired tVoirj 
them a mixture of ecstasy and vohiptuousness. Thoso 
Syrian women were always strange creatures, disputed 
for by God and Satan, and oscillating between the 
saint and the demon. The saint of serious virtues, of; 
heroic self-denial, of accomplished vows, belongs to 
other races and climes. The saint of vivid imagin- 
ings, of absolute entrancements, and of sudden devo- 
tion, is the saint of Syria. The demoniac of our 
Middle Age became the slave of Satan through 
baseness or crime ; that of Syria was distracted by the 
ideal — the woman of wounded affections, who avenges 
herself by madness or refusal to speak, and who needs 
only a gentle w^ird and kind look to resto:-e her. 
Transported to the western world, the Syrian women 
acquired influence, sometimes by evil feminine arts, 
but ofrener by real capacity and moral superiority. 
This happened in a special degree a])()Ut a hundred 
and fifty years later, when the most important person- 
ages of Rome married Syrian waives, who at once ac- 
quired a great ascendency over affairs. The Mussul- 
man woman of the present time, a noisy scold and 
foolish fanatic, existmg for scarce anything but evil, 
and almost incapable of virtue, ought not to make us 
forget such as Julia Domna, Julia M^esa, Julia Ma- 
msea, and Julia Soemia, who introduced into Rome a 
spirit of toleration and a mystical feeling in religion 
which were till then unknown. What is also well 
worthy of remark is, that the Syrian dynasty thus es- 
tablished was friendly to Christianity, and that Ma- 
maea, and afterwards the Emperor Philip the Arabian,^ 
passed for Christians. In the third and fourth centuries 



THE APOSTI.ES. 



Christiaiiitj was the predoiiiinaiit religion of S^yria, and 
next to Palestine, Syria played the greatest part in its 
establishment. 

It was especially at Roine that the Syrian in the first 
century exercised his penetrating activity. Intrusted 
with almost every kind of ordinary duty, guide, mes- 
senger, and letter-bearer, the Sijrus^'^ was admitted 
everywhere, bringing with him the language and man- 
mers of his own land.'^'^ He possessed neither the pi-ide 
nor the philosophic loftiness of Europeans, much less 
their bodily vigor. Of weak frame, pale and often 
feverish, and not knowing how to eat or sleep at stated 
houi-s, after the fashion of our slower races ; consuming 
little meat, and subsisting on onions and pumpkins; 
sleeping little and uneasily — the Syi'ian was habitually 
ailing and died young. What did b^^dong to him was 
humility, mildness, atfability, and good-iuiture ; no 
solidity of mind, but much that was agreeable; little 
sound sense, unless in driving a bargain ; but an asto- 
nishing warmth and zeal, and a trul_y feminine seduc- 
tiveness. Having never exercised any political functions, 
he was specially apt for religious movements. The poor 
Maronite, effeminate, huinble, and destitute, has brought 
about the greatest of revolutions. His ancestor, the 
Syrus of Rome, was the most zealous messenger of the 
good news to all aiSicted souls. Every year colonies 
of Syrians arrived in Greece, Italy, and Gaul, impelled 
by their natural taste for trade and small employments.'^^ 
They could be recognised on board of the vessels by 
their numerous families, by the troops of pretty chil- 
dren nearly alike in age, and the mother with the 
childish air of a girl of fourteen keeping close to her 

11* 



250 



THE APOSTLES. 



liiisbaiid's fc^ide, subniissiv^e ntid smiling, and scai-cidy 
superior to her oldest ofi'sprini^."^ The heads of th's 
peaceful group are not very strongly marked. Tiiere 
is no Archimedes there, no Plato or Phidias. But this 
Syrian ti-ader, now arrived at Rome, will be a kind and 
merciful man, charitable to his countrymen, and a friend 
to the poor. He will talk with the slaves, and reveal 
to tliem an iisylum wdiere those misei'able beings, con- 
demned l)y Roman severity to a most dreary solitude, 
may find some solace. The Greek and Latin races, 
made to be masters and to accomplish great actions, 
knew not how^ to make any advantage of an hund)le 
position.'- The slave of those races passed liis life in 
revolt and in plottii^g evil. The ideal slave of anti(piity 
lias every fault ; he is gluttonous, mendacious, mis- 
chievous, and the natui-al enemy of his master.'^ He 
thus, as it were, proved his nobility of race; he was a 
constant protest against an unnatural position. The 
ea?.y, good-natured Syrian did not trouble himself to 
protest ; he accepted his degradation and sought to do 
the best he could v/ith it. He coiiciliated the kind feel- 
ings of his master, ventured to couvei'se with him, and 
studied how U) please his niisti-ess. This great agent 
of democracy was thus gnawing apart, mesh by inesh, 
the net of the ancient civilization. The old institutions 
based upon pi'ide, inerpiality of races, and military 
valor, were lost. Weakness and humble condition were 
about to become advantageous, and helps to vii-tue.^' 
The Roman nobility, the Greek wisdom, will struggle for 
three centuries moi-e. Tacitus will approve the deporta- 
tion of some thousands of these wM-etclu s — " small loss if 
they had perished The Roman aristocracy will 



THE APOSTLES. 



251 



fret, will be provoked tliat this canaille should have i 8 
g-ods and institntiuiis. But tlie victory is wiaMe;! in 
advance. The Syrian, the poor man who loves his fel- 
lows, who shares with them and associates with them, 
will carry the day. The Roman aristocracy must 
perish, and [)erish without pity. 

To explain the revolution which is about to take 
place, we must take note of the political, social, moral, 
intellectual, and religious condition of the countries 
thi-ough which Jewish proselytism has thus opened fur- 
rows for the Christian preaching to sow the seed. Such 
an examination will show convincingly, I hope, that 
the conversion of the world to theJewisli and Christian 
ideas was inevitable, and will leave us astonished at 
only one thing — namely, that that conversion proceeded 
80 slowly and commenced so late. 



CHAPTER XYIL 



8fATE OF THE WORLD IN THE FIRST CENTURY. 

The political condition of the world was most melan- 
cliolj. All power was concentrated at Rome and 
in the legions. The most shameful and degrading 
scenes were daily enacted. The Roman aristocracy, 
which had conquered the world, and which alone of 
all the people had any voice in public business under 
the Caesars, had abandoned itself to a Saturnalia of the 
most outraj;80us wickedness the human race ever 
Avitnessed. Caesar and Augustus, in establishing the 
imperial power, saw perfectly the necessities of the 
age. The world was so low in its political relations, 
that no other form of government was i)0&sible. i^ow 
that Rome had conquered numberless provinces, the 
ancient constitution, which was based upon the existence 
of a privileged patrician class, a kind of obstinate 
and malevolent Tories, could not continue.^ But Au- 
g stus had signally neglected every suggestion of true 
policy, by leaving the future to chance. Destitute of 
any canon of hereditary succession, of any settled rules 
concerning ado])tion, and of any law regulating election, 
Cgesarism was like an enormous load on the deck of a 
vessel without ballast. The most terrible shocks were 
inevitable. Three times in a century, under Caligula, 
IS^ero, and Domitian, the greatest ]X)wer that was ever 
united in one person fell into the hands of most ex- 



THE APOSTLES. 



travagant and execrable men. Horrors were en icted 
which liave hardly l)een surpassed by the monsters of 
the Mongol dynasiies. In tliat fatal list of monarchs, 
one is reduced to apologizing for a Tiberius, who oidy 
attained thorous-li detestableness towards the close <»f 
liis life; and for a Claudius, who was only eccentric, 
blundering, and badly advised. Rome became a school 
of vice and cruelty. It should be added that the vice 
came, in a great degree, from the East, from those 
parasites of low raid^ and those infamous men whom 
Egypt and Syria sent to Rome,^ and who, profiting by 
the oppression of the true Romans, succeeded in attain- 
ing great influence over the wretches who governed. 
The most disii'usting ignominies of the empire, such as 
the apotheosis of the empei'ors and their deification dur- 
ing life, came from the East, and particularly from 
Egypt, which was at that period one of the most corrupt 
countries on the face of the earth.^ 

However, tlie veritable Roman nature still survived, 
and nobility of soul was far from extinct. The lofty 
traditions of pride and virtue, which were preserved in- 
a few families, attained the imperial throne with Nerva, 
and gave its splendor to the age of the Antonines, of 
which Tacitus is the elewmt historian. An ao:e in 
which such true and noble natures as those of Quintilian, 
Tacitus, and Pliny the Younger were produced, need 
not be wholly despaired of. The corruption of the 
surface did not extend to the great mass of seriousness 
and honor which existed in the better Roman society, 
ar^d many examples are yet preserved of devotion to 
order, duty, peace, and solid integrity. , There were 
in the noble houses admirable wives and sisters.^ Was 



254 



THE APOSTLliS. 



tlicre ever a more toiicliiiig fate tliaii that of tlie voiincj 
and cliaste Octavia, the daughter of Ohindius, and wife 
of Kero, remaining pure in the midst of infamy, and 
slain at twenty two years of age, without liaviiig kn(nvn 
a single joy? The epithets castissimce, univirw^''^ arc 
not at all rare in the inscriptions.^ Some wives accom- 
])anied their husbands into exile,^ and others shared their 
iiol le deaths/ The ancient lioinan simplicity was not 
lost. Tlie children were soberly and carefully brought 
lip. The most noble ladies worked w^itli their own 
hands at woollen fabrics,^ and the excesses of the toilet 
were almost unknown in the higher families.^ 

The excellent statesmen wlio, so to speak, sprang 
fr(^m the earth under Ti'ajan, vrere not improvised. 
Thi-y had served in ])receding reigtis; but they had 
enjoyed but little iiifiiience, and had been cast into the 
shade by the freed men and favorite slaves of the 
Emperor. Thus we find men of the first ability occu- 
])ying high posts under Nero. The framework was 
good. The accession of bad emperors, disastrous as it 
was, Could not change at once the general tendency of 
alTairs, and the principles of the government. The 
empire, far from being in its decay, was in the full 
strength of vigorous youth. Dec.iy will come, but two 
centni'ies later; and. stiange to Fay, nnder much more 
worthy monarch?. In its ]iolitic;d ph ;se, the sitnation 
w;is analogous to that of Fi-ance, which, deprived by 
the Revolution of any established iMde f )r the succession- 
lias yet passed through so many pci'ilous changes with- 
f)ut greatly injuring its internal organization or its 
national strength. In its moral aspect, the period under 
consideration may be compared to the eigh.eenth cen- 



V 



THE APOSTLES. 



265 



tury, an ei)ocli eiitirolj corrupt, if we form our jmlgnieiit 
from the memoirs, maiiusci'ipts, literature, and anecdotes 
of tlie time, but in whicli, nevertheless, some familiea 
maintained the greatest austerity of morals. 

Phiiosopliy joined hands with the better families of 
Rome, and resisted nobly. The Stoic school produced 
the hjfry cliai-actei's of Cremutius Cordus, Tiiraseas, 
Ari-ia, Hclvidius Pi'iscus, Ann^eus Cornu.tn.s, and 
Musonius Ilufus, admii-ahle masters of aristocratic 
virtue. The rig'diiy and exaggeration of this school 
arose from the horrible cruelty of the Ci^jars. The 
continual thongiit of a good man was how to inure him- 
self to sufl'ei-ing, and prepare himself for death. Lucan, 
in bad taste, and Persius with sujjerior talent, both gave 
"Utterance to the loftiest seiitiments of a great soul. 
Seneca the philosopher, Pliny the Elder, and Pa[)irius 
Fabianns, kept up a high standard of science and pliilo- 
sophy. Ever}^ one did not yield ; there were a few wise 
men left. Too often, however, they had no resource 
but death. The ignoble portions of humanity at times 
got the upper hand. Then madness and cruelty ruled 
the houi-, aiul made of Rome a veritable hell.'^ 

The government, although so feai'fully unstable at 
Rome, was much better in the provinces. At a distance 
the shocks wdiich agitated the ca])ital were hardly felt. 
In spite of its defects, the Roman administration wa.s far 
supei'ior to the kingdoms and commonwealths it had 
supplanted. The time f)r sovereign municipalities had 
long gone by. Tliose little States had destroyed them- 
selves by their egotism, their jealousies, and their igno- 
rance or neglect of individual freedom. The ancient life 
of Greece, all strug;>:le, all external, no Ioniser satisfied 



256 



THE APOSTLES. 



anyone. It Iiad been glorious in its e1a_y, but tliat bri\ 
liant democratic Olympus of demi-gods had lost its 
freshness, and become dry, cold, unmeaning, vn'in 
superficial, and lacking in both head and heart. Hence 
the success of the Macedonian rule, and afterwards of 
the Eoman. The empire had not yet fallen into the 
error of excessive centralization. Until the time of 
Diocletian, the provinces and cities enjoyed much liberty. 
Kingdoms almost independent existed in Palestine, Syi'ia, 
Asia Minor, Lesser Armenia, and Thrace, under the ])ro- 
tection of Rome. These kingdoms became factious after 
Caligula, only because the profound policy of Augustus 
concerning them was diverged from in succeeding 
reigns.^^ The numerous free cities were governed 
according to their own laws, and had the legislative 
power and magistracy of autonomic States. Until the 
third centui'v their municipal deci'ees commenced with 

the formula, '*The Senate and People of ".^^ 

The theatres were n(jt simply places for scenic amuse- 
ment, but were foci of opinion and discussion. Most of 
the towns were, in different ways, little commonwealths. 
The municipal spirit was very strong. They had lost 
only the power to declare war, a fatal power which 
made the world a field of carnage. "The benefits con- 
ferred by Pome upon mankind," were the theme of 
adulatory addresses everywhere, to which, however, it 
would be unjust to deny some sincerity.^^ The df)Ctrine 
of " the Peace of Pome,"^^ the idea of a vast democracy 
organized under Poman protection, lay at the bottojn of 
all political speculations.^^ A Greek rhetorician displays 
vast erudition in proving that Poman glory should be 
claimed by all the branches of the Hellenic race as a 



THE APOSTLES. 



257 



common patrimony. -^^ In regard to Svi'ia, Asia Minn]-, 
and Egypt, we may say that the Eouian con(|uest did 
not destroy any of their liberties. Those nations liad 
either been ah-eady long dead to political life, or had 
never enjoyed it. 

Finally, in spite of the extortions of governors and 
of the violence which is inseparable from despotic 
sway, the world had in many respects never been so 
well off. An administration comino; from a remote 
centre was so great an advantage, that even the rapa- 
cious Prcetors of the latter days of the Republic had 
failed to render it unpopular. The Julian law had 
also narrowed down the scope of abuses and pecula- 
tions. The follies or cruelties of the emperor, except 
under Xero, reached only the ilonian aristocracy imd 
the immediate f)llowers of the prince. Xevei* had 
men who did not care to busy themselves about poli- 
tics been able to live more at ease. The ancient 
republics, in which every one was compelled to take 
part in the facrions, were very unc(^nif )rtable ])laces 
of residence.^^ There was continually going on some 
disorganization oi- proscription. But under the empire 
tlie time seemed made expressly for gi-eat proselytisms 
which should overrule both ihe cpiarrels of neighbor- 
hoods and the I'ivalry of dynasties. Attacks on liberty 
were much m )re fre([Uenrly owing to the remnants of 
tho provincial or coujinunal authority than to the Un- 
man administration.-^ Of this truth we have had and 
shall have many occasions to take note. 

For those of the conquered countries where political 
privileges had been uidviiown for ages, and whicli lost 
nolhing but the right of destroying themselves by con- 



THE APOSTr.ES. 



tinual wars, tlie empire was such an era of prosperity 
and well-being as thej had never before experienced ; 
and we may add, withe ut being paradoxical, that it was 
also for them an era of liberty .^^ On the one hand, a 
freedom of commerce and industry, of which the Gre* 
cian States had no conception, became possible. On 
the other hand, the new regime conld not but be favor- 
able to freedom of thought. This freedom is always 
greater under a monarchy than under the rule of jea- 
lous and narrow-minded citizens, and it was unknown 
in the ancient repnl>lics. The Greeks accomplished 
great things without it, thanks to the incomp:iral)le 
force of their genius ; but we must not forget that Athens 
liad a complete inquisition.^'^ The Chief Tnquiriitor 
was represented by the archon, and the Holy OiUce hy 
the royal poi-tico whence issued the accusations of 
" im})iety." These wei-e numerous, and it is in this 
kind of causes that we find the Attic orators most fre- 
quently engaged. Not only philosophic heresies, such 
as the denial of a God or of Providence, but the slight- 
est intVactions of the rules of municipal worship, the 
preaching of foreign religions, and the most puerile 
departures from the absurdly strict legislation concern- 
ing the mysteries, were crimes punishable by death. 
The g(~)ds at wliom A'-istophanes scoffed on the stage, 
could sometimes slay. They slew Socrates, and almost 
Alcibiades; and they ])ersecuted Anaxa.goras, Prolngo- 
ras, Theodorus, Diagoi-as of Melos, Prodicus of Ceos, 
Stilpo, Aristotle, Theophrastus. Aspasia, and Eii!'.- 
pides.^'^ Liberty of thought was, in fact, the fruit of 
the kingdoms which arose out of the Macedf)nian con- 
quests. An Attalus and a Ptolemy first allowed tliQ 



THE APOSTLES. 



259 



tliinker tliose liberties which none of tlie old repnbh'cs 
had permitted. The Koman empire continued the 
same policy. Thei'e was, indeed, under the empire 
more than one arbitrar}^ decree against the philoso- 
phers, but it w^as alwaj's called furth by their entering 
into political schemes.^^ We may search in vain the 
Koman law before Constantine for a single passage 
against freedom of thought ; and the history of the im- 
perial government furnishes no instance of a prosecu- 
tion for entertainiuor an absti*act doctrine. 'No scien- 
tific man was molested. Men like Galen, Lucan, and 
Plotinus, who would have gone to the stake in the Mid- 
dle Age, lived tranquilly under the protection of the 
law. The empire inaugurated liberty in this respect ; 
it extinguished the despotic sovereignty of the family, 
the town, and the tribe, and replaced or tempered it 
by that of the State. Eat despotic power is the more 
vexatious the narrower its sphere of action. The old 
republics and the Feudal system oppressed individuals 
much more than did the state. The empire at times 
persecuted Christianity most sevei'ely, but at least it did 
not arrest its progress.^^ Republics, however, w^ould 
have overcome the new faith. Even Judaism w^ould 
have smothered it, but for the pressure of Roman 
authority. The Roman magistrates w^ere all that hin- 
dered the Pharisees from destroying Christianity at the 
outset.^ 

Expanded ideas of universal bro'^herhood and a 
sympath}^ with humanity at lai-ge, derived for the most 
part from the Stoic philosophy,^ were the results of the 
broader system of authority and the less confined 
education whicli had now assumed controL^^ Men 



260 



THE APOSTLES. 



dreamed of a new era and of new worlds.^ The pub- 
lic wealth v.'as great, and notwithstanding the ini])er- 
feet economic doctrines of the day, was consideraldy 
diffused. Morals were not what is often imagiued. 
At Rome, it is true, every kind of vice paraded itself 
witli revolting cynicism,^^ aud the public shows in par- 
ticular had introduced a frightful degree of corrup- 
tion. Some countries, Egypt for example, had sounded 
the lowest depths of infamy. But in most of the pro- 
vinces thei-e was a middle class in which good-nature, 
conjugal iidelity, probity, and the domestic vii-tues, 
were genei-ally practised.^^ Is there anywhere an ideal 
of domestic life among the honest citizens of small 
towns more charming than that presented to us by 
Plutarch? What kindness, what gentle manners, what 
chaste and amiable simplicity Chseronea was evi- 
dently not the only place where life was so pure and 
innocent. 

The popular tendencies were yet somewliat cruel even 
outside of Rome ; perba])S as the remnant of antique 
manners, whicli were everywhere sanguinary, perhaps as 
the special effect of Roman severity. But a marked im- 
provement in this respect was taking place. What pure 
or gentle sentiment, what impression of melancholy 
tenderness had not received its finest expression from 
the pens of Yirgil and Tibullus? The world was losing 
its ancient rigidity and acquiring softness and sensibility, 
^laxims of common humanity became current,^^ and the 
Stoics earnestly taught the abstract notions of equality 
and the rio'hts of man/^^ Woman, under the dotal svs- 
tern of Roman law, was becomino- more and more her 
own mistress. The treatment of slaves was improving 



THE APOSTLES. 



261 



Seneca admitted his to Lis own table.'"^^ The shive was 
no longer that grotesque and malignant creature which 
Latin comedy introduced to excite laughter, and which 
Cato recommended to be treated as a beast of burden.^ 
The times had changed. The slave was now morally 
equal to his master, and was admitted to be capable of 
virtue, fidelity, and devotion, of which he had giveu 
abundant proofs.^^ Prejudices of birth were becoming 
effaced.*^ Many just and humane laws were enacted, 
even under the worst emperors. Tiberius was a skil- 
ful financier, and established upon an excellent basis 
a system of public credit.'^ Nero introduced into 
the taxation, which had previously been unequal and 
barbarous some improvements which throw discredit 
even on our own times.*^ The progress of the theory of 
legislation was also considerable, although the death- 
penalty was still absurdly general. Charity to the poor, 
and sympathy for all, became virtues.'^ 

The theatre was a most insupportable scandal to decent 
citizens, and one of the chief causes which excited the 
antipathy of Jews and Judaized people of every kind 
against the profane civilization of the age. To their 
eyes, those vast inclosures were gigantic cloacce in which 
all the vices were collected. While the lower benches 
applauded, in the upper were often displayed disgust 
and horror. The gladiatorial spectacles established 
themselves w^ith difficulty in the provinces. At least the 
Hellenic provinces repelled them, and generally adhered 
to the ancient Grecian games.^^ Bloody sports always 
retained in the East distinct marks of Roman origin.^^ 

Tbe Athenians having one day debated the introduc- 
tion of these barbarous sports in imitation of Corinth,"^' 



262 



THE APOSTLES. 



a philosopher arose and moved that they should first 
raze to the ground the altar of Pity.'*® Thus it happened 
that one of the most profound sentiments of the primi- 
tive Christians, and one, too, which produced the most 
extended results, was detestation of tiie theatre, the 
stadium, the gymnasium ; that is to say, of all the public 
resorts which gave its distinctive character to a Grecian 
or Roman city. Ancient civilization was a public civil- 
ization. Its affairs were transacted in the open air in 
presence of the assembled citizens. Tt was the inversion 
of our system, in which life is private, and is inclosed 
witliin the walls of our dwelhngs. The theatre was the 
otf^^pring of the agora and the forum. The anathema 
against the th(uitre rebounded against society in general. 
A bitter rivahy grew up between the Church and the 
public games. Tlie slave, driven away from the latter, 
betook himself tothef)rmer. i have never seated my- 
self in those melancholy arenas, which are always the 
best-preserved relics of an ancient city, without seeing 
in imagination the struggle of the two systems. Here, 
the honest and humble citizen, already half a C'hristian, 
sitting in the first row, covering his face and going away 
ashamed; there, the philosopher, rising suddenly and 
openly reproaching the assemblage with its baseness.'^^ 
These examples were rare in the first century, but the 
protest was beginning to make itself heard,^ and the 
theatre was receiving more and more reprobation.^^ 

The laws and administrative regulations of the em- 
])ire were as yet a veritable chaos. Central despotism, 
municipal and provincial franchises, administrative 
caprice and the self-will of commonalties, jostled each 
other in tlie strangest manner. But religious liberty 



THE APOSTLES. 



263 



was a o^ainer by these conflicts. The complete nin'ty 
of administration, which was established at about the 
time of Trajan, proved much more ftital to the rising 
faith than the irregular, careless, and poorly-policed 
system of the Csesars. 

Institutions of public charity, founded on the doc« 
trine that the State owes paternal duties to its subjects, 
were not much developed until after the reigns of 
Nerva and Trajan.^^ A few traces of them, hovv^ever, 
are found in the first century .^^ There were already 
charities for chihlren,** distributions of food to the poor, 
fixed rates for the sale of bread with indemnity pro- 
vided for the tradesmen, precautions in regard to sup- 
ply of provisions, assurance against pirates, and orders 
enabling persons to buy grain at reduced prices. All 
the em])erors, without exception, manifested the great- 
est solicitude on these topics, which may indeed be 
called subordinate, but which at certain times rule 
everything else. In remote antiquity there was not 
much need of public charity. The world was young 
and strong, and required no liospital. The good arid 
simple Homeric morality, according to which the guest 
and the beggar are sent l)y Jove, is the morality of 
strong and cheerful youth.^*" Greece, in her classic age, 
enounced the most touching niaxims of pity and bene- 
volence, without connecting with them any conception 
of sadness or social niisfortune.^^ Man was yet at that 
epoch healthy and happy ; how could he look forward 
and provide against evil days ! 

But in respect to institutions for mutual assistance, 
the Greeks were far in advance of the Romans.^ Not 
a solitary liberal or benevolent arrangement was ever 



264. 



THE APOSTLES. 



devised by that cruel ai-iVtocmcv wliicli, as long as the 
republic endured, wielded such an oppressive authority. 

At the epoch we are now considering, the colossal 
fortunes and luxury of the nobility, the vast agglome- 
rations of people at certain points, and above all the 
peculiar and implacable hard-heartedness of the Romans, 
liad caused the rise of pauperisra.^^ The indulgence of 
some of the emperors to the Roman mob had aggi'a- 
vated this eviL The public distributions of corn en- 
couraged idleness and vice, and provided no remedy 
for misery. In this, as in many other things, the Ori- 
ental world was superi(U\ The Jews possessed real 
institutions of charit3\ The Egyptian temples seem to 
have sometimes had a fund for the poor.'* The male 
and female colleges of the Serapeum at Memphis were 
also to some extent charitable estal)lishments.^ The 
terrible crisis through which humanity was passing in 
the capital was scarcely perceived in distant provinces 
where the mode of lite remained simple. The re- 
proach of having poisoned the wli(>le earth, the liken- 
ing of Rome to a harlot who had made the earth drunk 
with the wine of her fornication, was in many respects 
just.^^ The provinces were better than Rome; or more 
properly, the impure elements which gathered together 
from all quarters into the metropolis, made her a sink 
of iniquity, in which the old Roman virtues w^ere 
smothered, and the good seed brought from elsewhere 
grew with difficulty. 

The intellectual condition of the different parts of 
the empire was quite unsatisfactory. In this respect 
there had been a real decline. High mental culture is 
not as independent of political circumstauces as is pri- 



TPIE APOSTLES. 



265 



vate morality. Besides, the progress of higli mental 
culture and that of morality are not exactly parallel. 
Marcus Aurelius was certainly a better man than all 
the old Greek philosophers. Yet his positive notions 
in regard to the realities of the universe were inferior to 
those of Aristotle and Epicurus ; for he believed at 
times in dreams and omens, and in the gods as com- 
plete and distinct pei-sonalities.' The world was then 
undergoing a moral improvement and an intellectual 
decline. From Tiberius to Nerva this decline is very 
])erceptil)le. The Greek genius, with a force, origi- 
nality, and copiousness which have never been equalled, 
had in the course of several centuries created the ra- 
tional encyclopaadia, the normal discipline of the mind. 
This wonderful movement commenced with Thales, 
and the earliest Ionian scliools (600 years before Christ), 
and was stopped about e.g. 120. The last survivors 
of these five centuries of intellectual progi'ess, Apollo- 
nius of Perga, Eratosthenes, Aristarchus, Hero, Archi- 
medes, Hipparchus, Glirysippus, Carneades, and Pane- 
tius, had departed, leaving no successors. Only Posido- 
nius and a few astronomers kept up the ancient 
reputation of Alexandria, Rliodes, and Pergamus. 
Greece, however fei'tile in creative genius, had not 
extracted from her science and philosophy any system 
of popular instruction or remedy against superstition, 
possessing admirable scientific institutes, Egypt, Asia 
Minor, and Greece herself were at tlie same time given 
f>ver to the most senseless credulity. But if science 
does not succeed in getting the upper hand over super- 
stition, superstition will extinguish science. Between 
these two opposing forces, the combat is to the death. 

12 



266 



THE APOSTLES. 



Italy, while adopting Greek science, had for a time in- 
spired it with a new sentiment. Lucretius had furnished 
the model of the great philosophic poem, at once a hymn 
and a blasphemy, by turns imparting serenity and de- 
spair, and imbued with that profound view of human 
destiny which was always wanting in the Greeks, who, 
childlike as they were, took life- so gaily that the}^ never 
dreamed of cursing the Gods, or of accusing nature of 
injustice and treachery towards man. Graver thoughts 
occurred to the Latin philosophers. But Kome as well 
as Greece fiiled to make science the basis of popular edu* 
cation. While Cicero, with exquisite taste, was transfer- 
ring into a polished form the ideas he borrowed from the 
Greeks; while Lucretius was composing his wonderful 
poem ; v/hile Horace was avowing his frank infidelity 
in the ear of Augustus, who expressed no surprise; 
while Ovid, one of the most pleasing poets of the time, 
was treating venerable traditions after the manner of an 
elegant free-thinker; and while the great Stoics were 
developing the practical results of Greek philosophy, 
the silliest cliimeras met with full credence, and the be- 
lief in the marvellous was unbounded. Never were peo- 
ple more ready for prophecies and prodigies.^^ The eclec- 
tic deism of Cicero,^' perfected by Seneca,^^ remained tho 
creed of a few cultivated minds, but exercised no influ- 
ence on the age. 

Down to Yespasian, the empire had nothing which 
can be called public instruction.^^ What it afterwards 
possessed was confined to a few dry grammatical ex- 
ercises, and the general decline became rather accelerated 
than retarded. The last days of the republic and the 
reign of Augustus, witnessed one of the most brilliant 



THE APOSTLES. 



267 



literary epochs that has ever occurred. But after the 
death of the great emperor, the decline may as properly 
be called sadden as rapid. The inteUigeiit and cultivat- 
ed society in which had moved Cicero, Atticus, Ciesar, 
M}3ecenas, Agri[>pa, and Polho, had vanished like a dream. 
Doubtless enlightened men remained; men familiar with 
the learning of their daj^, and occupying high positions, 
such as Lucilius, Plinv, Gallio, and the Senecas, with 
the literary circle which gathered around them. Tiie 
body of Roman law, which is codified philosoph}^, which 
is Greek rationalism reduced to practice, continued its 
majestic growth. The noble Eoman families had pre- 
served a basis of purer religion and a horror of wdiat 
they called "superstition."^^ The geographers, Strabo 
and Pomponius Mela ; the physician and encyclopaedist, 
Celsus ; the botanist, Dioscorides; the jurist, Semproniua 
Proculus — were able and liberal men. But these w^ere 
exceptions ; leaving out a few thousand enlightened per- 
sons, the world was immersed in profound ignorance of 
the laws of nature.^^ Credulity was a universal mala- 
dy.^^ Literary culture was dwindling into a mere rheto- 
rical shell, which contained no kernel. The essentially 
moral and practical turn which philoso|jhy had taken, 
banished profound speculation. Human knowledge, if 
we except geography, mcade no advances. The schooled 
and lettered amateur replaced the creative and original 
student. Here was felt the fatal influence of the great 
defect in Roman character. That race, so mighty to 
command, was secondarv in genius. The most cultivat- 
ed Romans, Lucretius, Titruvius. Celsus, Pliny, Seneca, 
were, so far as regards positive knowledge, the pupils of 
the Greeks. Too often, indeed, it was second rate Greek 



268 



THE APOSTLES. 



learning wliicli the}^ reproduced in n second-ratt style.^' 
Rome never possessed a great scientific school. Charla- 
tanism reigned there almost supreme. Finally the Latin 
literature, which certainly displayed some admirable quali- 
ties, flourished during only a brief period, and never 
made its way beyond the occidental worldJ^ i 

Greece fortunately continued faithful to her genius. 
The prodigious splendor of Roman power had dazzled and 
stunned, but not annihilated it. In .fifty years more we 
shall find her reconquering the world, giving again her 
laws to thought, and sharing the throne of the Antonines. 
But at this period Greece herself was passing through 
one of her intervals of lassitude. Genius was scarce, and 
original science inferior to what it had been in preceding 
ages, and to what it would be in the following. The 
Alexandrian school, which had been declining for nearly 
two centuries, but still at Caesar's era could furnish a 
Sosio;enes, was now dumb. 

The space from the death of Augustus to the accession 
of Trajan must, then, be classed as a period of temporary 
degradation f)r the human intellect. The ancient world 
had by no means uttered its last word, but the bitter 
trials through which it was passing took from it both 
voice and courage. When brighter da^^s return, and 
genius shall be delivered from the terrible sway of the 
Cc^sars, she will take heart again. Epictetus, Plutarch, 
Dionysius the golden-mouthed, Quintilian, Tacitus, 
Pliny the Younger, Juvenal, Rufus of Ephesus, 
Aretseus, Galen, Ptolemy, Hypsicles, Theon, and Lucan, 
will renew the palmy days of Greece ; not that inimitable 
Greece which existed but once for the simultaneous 
delight and despair of all who love the beautiful, but a 



THE APOSTLES. 



269 



Greece still fruitful and aboundins:, which will miniyle 
her own gifts with the Koman genius, and produce 
works of novelty and originality yet able to charm the 
world. 

The general taste was bo.d. G-reat Grreek writers wore 
wanting ; and the Latin writers extant, except the satirist 
Persius, are of an ordinary type. Excessive declamation 
spoiled everything. The rule by which the public 
judged intellectual productions was nearly the same as 
it is now. Only brilliancy was looked f )r. Language 
ceased to be the simple vestment of thought, deriving 
all its elegance from its perfect adaptation to the idea 
sono-ht to be expressed. Lansua^-e beiran to be cultivated 
for its own sake. The aim of an author in his writings 
was to display his own talent. The excellence of a reci- 
tation or public reading was measured by tiie number of 
passages which excited ;ipplause. The cardinal princi[)le 
that in art evervthinfy should serve as ornament, but that 
anything inserted expressly as ornament is ba-1, was en- 
tirely forgotten. It was a very literary perio.l, as they 
say. Hardly anything was talked of but eloquence and 
style; and after all, nearly everybody wrote incorrect! v, 
and there was not a solitary orator. The true orator and 
writer are not those w^ho make speaking or writing their 
trade. At the theatre, the princi))al actor absorbed at- 
tention, and dramas were suppressed in ord^r that bril- 
liant passages miglit be recited. The literary fashion of 
the day was a silly (liletlantisin, a foolish vanity which led 
everybody to affect talent, and which did not stop short 
of the imperial throne. Hence extreme insi})idity and 
interminable " Theseids,'' or dramas w^ritten to be read in 
literary circles ; and hence a dreary desert of poetical 



270 



THE APOSTLES. 



commonplace, which can be compared only to the epics 
and classic tragedies of sixty years ago. 

Stoicism itself could not escape this disease, or at 
least it did not before Epictetus and Marcus Aurelins 
sncceeded in clothing its doctrines in an elegant vesture. 
What strange productions are those tragedies of Seneca/ 
in which the loftiest sentiments are expressed in the 
most weai'isome style of literary quackery ! indices at 
once of moral advancement and of an irremediable 
decline of taste. We are compelled to say the same of 
Lucan. The tension of mind wdiich resulted naturally 
from the eminently tragic character of the epoch, gave 
rise to a species of inflation, in which state the only 
anxiety w^as to win applause by brilliant sentences. 
Something analogous to this happened aniongst us 
during the Hevolution ; and the most terrible crisis 
wdiich ever existed produced scarcely anything but a 
schoolmaster's literature, crammed with declamation. 
We must not, how^ever, stop at this point. Kew ideas 
are sometimes expressed with niach ostentation. The 
style of Seneca is sober, simple, and pure, in com- 
parison with that of St. Augustine. But we forgive 
the latter his detestable style and insipid conceits, in 
return for his noble sentiments. 

At all events this cultivation, which was in many 
respects noble and superior, did not extend to the 
])cople. This would have been a minor deprivation, 
if the people liad had at least some religious nourish- 
ment, something similar to that which the Church pro- 
vides for the low^est grades of modern society. But 
religion w^as at a very low ebb in all parts of the em- 
pire. The wise policy of Kome had left unmolested 



THE APOSTLES. 



271 



tlie ancient forms of worship, proliibiting onlj those 
observances which were inhuQian,'^ seditious, or inju- 
rious to others.'^ She had spread over them all a sort 
of official varnish, which gave them some general resem- 
biance, and blended them, good and bad, t(:)gether. 
Unfortunately these old creeds, though very diverse in 
origin, had one common characteristic. It was equally 
impossible for any and all of them to provide theological 
instruction, applied morality, edifying preaching, or a 
pastoral ministry productive of good among the people. 
The pagan temple was never what the synagogue and 
the Church were in their best days — that is, a common 
home, school, inn, hospital, and refuge for the poor.'^ It 
was only a chilly cell which the people seldom entered, 
and where they never learned anything. 

The Koman worship was perhaps the least objection- 
able of those which were yet practised. In it, purity of 
soul and body was considered a part of religion.'^ By its 
gravity, its decency, and its austerity, this form of wor- 
ship, leaving out a few extravagances similar to our Car- 
nival, was far superior to the grotesque and sometimes 
absurd ceremonies which were secretly introduced by 
those seized with the mania for Oriental customs. Still, 
the affectation with which the Koman patricians distin- 
guished " religiorC^ — that is, their own rites — from those 
of foreigners, which they called superstition^^ cannot 
but appear to us puerile enough.'® All the pagan forms 
of worship were essentially superstitious The peasant 
who, in modern times, drops his penny into the contri- 
bution-box of a holy chapel, who invokes his saint in 
behalf of his oxen or his horses, or who drinks certain 
waters to cure certain diseases, is so far forth a pagan. 



272 



THE APOSTLES. 



^sTearlj all onr superstitions are the remains of a reli- 
gion anterior to Christianity, and which it has not yet 
succeeded in completely rooting out. If one would 
find at tliis day the image of paganism, he may seek it 
in some secluded village lying hid in the recesses of 
some unfrequented province. 

The heathen religions, having no guardians but the 
varying traditions of the people and a few greedy 
sacristans, could not fail to degenerate into adulation." 
Augustus, although with some reserve, permitted wor- 
ship of himself in some of the provinces during his 
lifetime.'^^ Tiberius allowed the decision in his own 
presence, of the ignoble competition of the cities of 
Asia, which disputed among themselves the honor of 
buikling a temple to liim.^^ The extravagant impieties 
of Caligula produced no reaction.^® Outside of Juda 
ism there did not seem to be a single ])riest manly 
enough to resist such follies. Sprung for the most part 
from a primitive worship of the f )rces of nature, trans- 
formed over and over again by mixtures of all sorts, 
and by popular imagination, the pagan religions were 
confined by their antecedents. They could not afford 
what they never contained — -the idea of real divinity, 
or popular instruction. The fathers of the Church occa- 
sion a smile when they animadvert upon the misdeeds 
of Saturn as a father, and of Jupiter as a husband. 
But it was certainly much more absurd to erect Jupi- 
ter {i.e. the atmosphere) into a moral divinity, who 
commanded, forbade, rewarded, and punished. In a 
state of society which was aspiring to possess a cate- 
chism, what could be done with a worship like that of 
Yenus, which arose out of a social necessity of the early 



THE ArOSTLICS. 



Plioenician iiavigition in tlie Mediterranean sea, Init 
became in time an oiitra*2:e on what was becomino: 
more and more i-egai'ded as the essence of reb'gion. 

On every side,, in fact, an energetic tendency was 
manifested towards a monotheistic religion, which 
ehould provide divine command as a foundation of 
morality. There occurs in this manner a crisis when 
the naturalistic religions liave become reduced to mere 
childishness and the grimaces of jugglers, and can no 
longer answer the wants of society. Then humanity 
requires a moral and philosopliical religion. Buddhism 
and Zoroasterism responded to this requirement in 
India and Persia. Orphism and the Mysteries had 
attempted the same thing in the Grecian world without 
achieving a lasting success. At the period we are c<>n- 
sidei'ing, the problem presented itself to the entire 
world with solemn universality and i!n[)osing grandeur. 

Greece, it is true, formed an exception in this 
respect. Hellenism was much less worn out than the 
other relig'ons of the empire. Plutarch, in his little 
Boeotian town, lived in the practice of Hellenism — 
tranquil, happy, and contented as a child, and with a 
religious conscience entirely undisturbed. In him we see 
no trace of a crisis ; of distracti(~)n, uneasiness, or fear of 
impending revolution. But it was only the Gi'eek mind 
which was capable of such childlike serenity. Always 
pleased with herself, proud of her past and of that bril- 
liant mythology, all of whose sacred places lay within 
her borders, Greece did not participate in the internal 
disquiet of the world. She alone did not invite Chris- 
tianity ; she alone would have preferred to do without 
it, and she alone made pretensions of doing better.^^ 

12* 



274 



THE APOSTLES. 



This was tlie result of the everlasting youtlifulness, 
patriotic feeliii'^, and uiicoriquerable g^ii^t^J which 
always marked the genuine son of Hellas, and which 
to this day render the Greek a stranger to the profound 
anxieties which prey upon us. Hellenism was thus in 
a condition to attempt a renaUsaiice^ which no other 
religion existing at the tiirie could hope for. In tlie 
second, tliird, and fourth centuries of our era, Hellenism 
had formed itself into an organized system of religion, 
by means of a welding, as it were, of the ohl mytho- 
logy and the Grecian })hilosophy ; and what with its 
miracle- w^)rking sages, its old writers elevated to the 
ranks of propiiets, and its legends about P)^thagora8 
and Apollonius, set up a competition with Chrislianity, 
which, though it ultimately failed, was yet one of the 
most dangerous obstacles that the religion of Jesua 
found in its way. 

This attempt had not yet been made in the time of the 
C;i.'s :,rs. The first philosophers who endeavored to bring 
about the alliance between philosophy and paganism, 
were Euplirates of Tyre, Apo]l(;nius of Tyana, and 
Plutarch, at the close of the century. Euphrates of 
Tyre is but little known to us. Lcgi-nd has so com- 
pletely disguised the plot of the n.'al life of Apollonius, 
that it is impossible to say whether he should be con- 
sidenui the founder of a religion, a sage, or a charlatan. 
As to Plutarch, he was not so much an original thinker 
and innovator as a moderate reformer, who wished to 
bring the world to one mind by rendering philosophy 
a little timid and religion at least one-half rational. He 
has nothing of the character of Porphj^ry or Julian. 

The attempts of the Stoics at allegorical exegesis were 



THE APOSTLES. 



27c 



ver}' fccble.^^ Mj^steries like tliose of T3nccbu«, in wliich 
the immortality of the soal was taught through graceful 
symbols,^ were confined to certain localities and had no 
extended influence. Disbelief in the official religion 
was general in the enlightened class Those public 
men who made the greatest pretension of upholding it, 
expended their wit upon it fi'cely in moments of leisure.^^ 
The immoral doctrine was openly propounded, that the 
religious fables were only of use in governing the people, 
and ought to be maintained for that purpose.^' The 
precaution was useless, for the faith of the people them- 
selves was shaken to the foundation. ^'^ 

After the accesvsion of Tiberius, a religious reaction 
was perceptible. It would seem that society was shocked 
at the avowed infidelity of the Augustan age. The way 
was prepared for the unlucky attempt of Julian, and all 
the superstitions were reinstated for reasons of state- 
policy.^ Valerius i\[aximus affords the first example of 
a writer of low rank coming to the relief of cornered 
theologians ; of a dirt}-, venal pen put to the service of 
religion. 

But the foreign rites pr()fit(}d tlie most by this reaction* 
1 he serious movement in fiivor of the rehabilitation of 
the Greco-Eoman worship did not develop itself until 
the second century. At first, the classes troubled by 
religious misgivings were attracted towards the Oriental 
forms.^'^ Isis and Serapis were more in favor than ever.^ 
Impostors of all sorts thaiimatuigists and magicians, 
profited by the popular mood, and, as ordinarily takes 
place when the state-religion is enfeebled, swarmed on 
every side.^^ We need only refer to the real or fictitious 
systcrns^*^ A.pollonius of Tyana, Alexander of Abono- 



276 



THE APOSTLES. 



ticus, Perigrinus, and Simon of Gitto.^ Even tlicae 
errors and chimerae were the cry of a world in labor ; 
were the fruitless essays of human society in search ot 
the truth, and sometimes in its convulsive efforts un- 
earthing monstrous deformities destined to speedy obli- 
vion. 

On the whole, the middle of the first century waa 
one of the w^orst epochs of ancient history. Grecian 
and Koman society had declined from its former condi- 
tion, and was far behind the ages which were to follow. 
The greatness of the crisis revealed a strange and 
secret process going on. Life seemed to have lost its 
motives ; suicide became common.^^ ITever had an 
age presented so dire a struggle between good and 
evil. The powers of evil w^ere a terrible despotism 
wdiich delivered the woi'ld to the hands of monsters 
and madmen, corruption of morals arising from the 
importation of Oriental vices, and the want of a pure 
religion and decent public instruction. The powers ot 
good were on the one side, philosophy fighting with 
bared breast against tyranny, defying the monsters ot 
oppression, and three or four times proscribed in half a 
centnry (under Nero, Yespasian, and Domitian);^* on 
the other side, the struggles of popular virtue, the 
legitimate longings for a better religion, the tendency 
tow^ards confraternities and monotheistic creeds, and 
the recognition of the lower classes which occurred 
chiefly under cover of Judaism and Christianity. These 
tw^o great protests were far from being accordant. 
The philosophic party and the Ciiristian pai'ty were 
not acquainted with each other, and had so little per* 
ception of their comnion intei'est that when the philo 



THE APOSTLES. 



277 



60j)liers came into power by the accession of Xerva^ 
they were tar from being fav^orable to Christianity, 
In truth, the aim of the Cliristians was much more 
radical. Tlie Stoics, wiien they became masters of the 
empire, reformed it, and presided over a hundred of 
the happiest years in the history of man. The Chris- 
tians, when they became masters of tiie empire, ended 
by destroying it. The lieroism of the latter ought not 
to make us unmindful of that of the former. Christi- 
anity was always unjust towards pagan virtues, and 
made it her business to decrj^ the very men who had 
fought against the same common enemy. There was as 
much grandeur in the struggle of philosophy in the first 
century as in tliat of Christianit}^ ; but how unequal has 
been the recompense. The manyr who overturned 
idols with his foot lives in pious legend. Why are not 
the statues of Annreus Cornutus, who declared in pre- 
sence of Nero that the emperor's writings would never 
be worth those of Chrysippus ^' — of Helvidius Priscus, 
who told Yespasian to his face, " It is thine to murder — ■ 
it is mine to die! " — -'^ of Demetrius the Cynic, who an- 
swered an enraged Nero, "You may menace me with 
death; but nature! threatens you''-'^ — placed amongst 
those of the world's heroes whom all love and to whom 
every one pays homage? Is humanity so strong in her 
battle with vice and depravity, that any school of virtue 
can repel the aid of others, and maintain that itself alone 
has the right to be brave, lofty, and resigned ? 



CHAPTER XYIIL 



KLLIGIOUS LEGISLATION OF THE PERIOD. 

During the first century of the Christian era, the 
empire, while manifesting more or less hostility to the 
religious innovations which were imported from the 
East, did not declare open war against them. The 
doctrine of a state-religion was not clearly defined or 
vigorously upheld. At diifcrent epochs under the re- 
])ul)lic, foreign rites had been proscribed, especially 
those of Sabazius, Lis, and Serapis.^ But those mys- 
tej'ions systems presented such irresistible attractions 
to the common people, that the proscription proved 
unavailing.^ 

When (a. u. c. 535) the demolition of the temple 
of Isis and Sern})is was decreed, not a workman could 
be found to commence it, and the consul himself had 
to set tlie example by bi'eaking down the doors with 
an axe.^ It is evident that the Latin creed was no 
longer satisfying to \he ma-ses; and we may stij)[)Ose 
Avith good i-eason that it was for the purpose of grati- 
fying ihe popular instincts that the rites of Isis and 
Sera pis wei'e reestablished by Csesai'.^ 

That great man, with the })rofouiid and liberal intni 
tion which characterized him, had shown liimself favor- 
able to entire freedom of conscience. ^ Augustus was 
more attached to the national religion.*^ He had an 
antipathy to the Oriental creeds,^ and prohibited the 



TIIL: ArOSTLHS. 



279 



8])road of even the Egyptian rites in li'aly f but he 
allowed every system, and the Jewish in particnhir, to 
enjoy freedom and supremacy in its own country.'-' lie 
exem})ted the Jews from all observances coiiiiicting 
with their conscience, especially from civil duties on 
the Sabbath.'*^ Some of his officers manifested a less 
tolerant spii-it, and would willingly have prevailed on 
him to become a persecutor in the interest of the Latin 
form of worship but he does not appear to have 
yielded to their mischievous connseL Josephus, whom 
we niay, however, sus})eci of t^oiuc exaggeration, declares 
that Augustus even went so far as to [u-esent a gift of con- 
secrated vases to the service of the temple at Jerusalem, 

Tibei'ius Ctesar was the fii'st of the emperors who 
detinitely adopted the principle of a state-religion, and 
who enforced strict precautio!is against the Jewish and 
Oriental propaganda/^ It mast be boi-ne in mind that 
the emperor was also " Pontifex Maxlmus^''' and that 
in protecting the ancient 11 >man worship he was per- 
forming an official duty. C digul i revoked the Tibe- 
rian edicts,''^ but his su])ervenii!g lunacy prevented 
any further results. Clau bus seems to have carried 
out the Augustan policy. At K )me he strengthened 
the Latin ceremonies, showed consiilerable dislike to 
the advance of foreign r^digions,'^ enforced I'igorous 
measures against the Jews,^'' tmd implacably persecuted 
the religious contVaternitie.-.'" In Judea, on the con- 
traiT, he treated the natives of the country lihei'ally.'^ 
The favor enjoyed at Kome b}^ the family of Agrippa 
under the two reigns just mentioned, secured to their 
co-religionists a powerfid protectifvu in all cases not 
coming within the regulations of the Roman police. 



280 



THE APOSTLES. 



Tlie emperor Xcro truiiblod himself hut little aboni 
rebgioii.i^ Ilk eriielries towards the Christians were 
the mere outcrops of liis natural ferocity, not the i-e- 
sults of legislative policy.^^ The instances of persecu- 
tion cited in the Roman annals of this period emanated 
rather from the authority of the family than from that 
of the Government,^^ an I happened only in some noble 
houses of Rome, where the ancient traditions of domes- 
tic rule had been preserved.^ The provinces were 
entirely free to adliere to their own rites, on the sole 
condition of not interfering with those of others.^^ Pro- 
vincials residing at Rome were aUowed the same pri- 
vileges so long as they avoided anything which occa- 
sioned public scandal.^^ The only two religions against 
which the emjjii'e made war in the first centui'y, were 
Druidism and Judaism ; and each of these was, in truth, 
a foi-tress wherein was entrenched a distinct and tur- 
bulent nationality. Most men w^ere convinced that 
the profession of Judaism implied hatred of the civil 
institutions of the empire and indifference to the wel- 
fare of the state.^^ When Judaism assumed the con- 
dition of a mere individual or private system of 
religious belief, it was not persecuted.^' The rigorous 
measures which were put in force against the worship 
of Serapis, were perhaps suggested by the mono- 
theistic character^' which caused it sometimes to be 
confounded in public estimation with the Jewish and 
the Christian religions.^-^ 

It appears, then, that no established legislation prohi- 
bited in the apostolic age the profession of monotheistic 
creeds.^^ The sectaries were always under surveillance 
down to the accession of the Syrian emperors ; but it waa 



THE APOSFLES. 



2S1 



not until Trajan's time that they wore systematically 
perfeecLited, as being intolerant and hostile towards other 
sects, and as iujpliedly denying the authority of the state. 
In a word, the only phase of religious belief against 
which the Roman empire declared war was theocracy. 
Its own principle was that of a purely secular organiza- 
tion. It did not admit that religion could have any civil 
or political connexions or consequences. Above all it 
would not admit of any association within the state and 
independent of the state. This point it is essential to 
remember. It was in truth the root from which sprang 
all the persecutions. The law concerning the ct)n frater- 
nities was in a much greater degree than religious intole- 
rance, the fatal cause of the cruelties which disgraced the 
reigns of the most liberal emperors. 

The Greeks had led the way for the Romans, as well in 
matters relating to private associations as in all other 
results of thou^'ht and refinement. The Greek vjoxvoi. or 
eiarai of Athens, Rhodes, and the Islands of the Archi- 
pelago were useful societies for mutual assistance in the 
way of loans, fire assurance, common religious obser- 
vances, and harmless amusement/^^ Each society had 
its rules carved on a steli^ its archives, its c-ornmon 
fund, provided by both volmitary contributions and 
assessments. The members met together to celebrate the 
festivals and to hold banquets, where cordiality reigned 
supreme.^^ A brother needing mone_y could borrow from 
the treasury. Women were admitted into these associa- 
tions, and had a president f )r themselves. The meetings 
were held in secret, and under strict rules f)r the preser- 
vation of order. Tliey took place, it seems, in inclosed 
gardens, surrounded by porticoes or small buildings, and 



282 



THE APOSTLES. 



in the centre was erected an altar for tlie sacrifices.'^ Euch 
ass(j>ciation liad its officers, selected bj lot for one year, 
according to the usage of tiie ancient Greek democracies, 
and from which the Christian " clergy" may have derived 
its name.^ The presiding officer onl}^ was elected by 
vote. These officers passed the candidate through a kind 
of examination, and were required to certify that he was 
" holy^ p?b«s, and goodP 

There occurred in the two or three centuries which 
preceded the Christian era, a movement in favor of these 
little religious clubs, almost as marked as that which in 
the middle age ])roduced so many religious orders and 
subdivisions of orders. In the island of Rhodes alone 
there is record of nineteen, many of which bore the 
names of their founders, or reformers.^'' Some of them, 
particularly those of BaGohus^ inculcated lofty doctrines, 
and sought in good faith to a<l minister consolation to 
man.^^ If there yet remained in Greek society a little 
charity, piety, or good moi'als, it was due to the exist- 
ence and freedom of these private devotional assemblies. 
They acted as it were concurrently with the public and 
official religion, the neglect of which was becoming more 
and more apparent day by day. At Rome associations 
of this nature met with more opposition, and found no 
less favor among the poorer classes.^^ The rules of 
Roman policy in regard to secret contVaternities were 
first promulgated under the republic (b.c. 186) in the 
case of the Bacchanals. The Ronums were by natural 
taste much inclined to associations,^^ and in particular 
to those of a religious character but these permanent 
congregations were displeasing to the patrician order, 
who controlled the municipal power,*' and whose narrow 



THE APOSTLES. 



283 



concei)tions of life adtnitted no other social group be 
sides tlie family and the State. The most minute pre- 
cautions were taken, such as the requirement of a preli 
minary authorization, the limiting of the number ot' 
members, and the prohibition against having a perma' 
nent Magister sacrorum^ and a common fund raised by 
subscription.'^ The same anxiety was manifested on 
several occasions under the empire. The body of 
public law contained clauses authorizing all kinds of 
repression but it depended on the administrative 
power whether they should be enforced or not, and the 
proscribed religions often reappeared in a very few years 
after their proscription.^^ Foreign immigration, espe- 
cially from Syria, unceasingly renewed the soil in which 
flourished the creeds so vainly doomed to extirpation. 

It is astonishing to observe to what an extent a subject, 
seemingly so unimportant, occupied the greatest minds 
of that age. It was one of the chief tasks of Caesar and 
Augustus to prevent the formation of new clubs, and to 
destroy those already established.^^ A decree published 
under Augustus attempts to define positively the limits 
of the right of association, and whose limits were ex- 
tremely narrow. The clubs {collegia) were to be merely 
for the purpose of celebrating funeral rites. They were 
permitted to meet no oftener than once a month ; they 
were to attend only to the obsequies of deceased mem- 
bers, and under no pretext could they obtain an exten- 
sion of their privileges.'*'' The Empire resolved on 
performing the impossible. In logical sequence to its 
exaggerated notion of the state, it attempted to isolate 
the individual, to destroy every moral bond of fellow- 
f.hip among men, and to combat that legitimate longing 



284 



THE APOSTLES. 



of the poor to press closer together in some little refuge, 
as it were to keep eacli other warm. In ancient Greece 
the '''city " was tyrannical, but it offered in exchange for 
its oppression so much amusement, enlightenment, and 
glory, that none thought of complaining. The citizen 
submitted quietly to its wih:lest caprices, and went to 
death for it with rapture. But the Roman empire was 
too vast to be one's country. It offered to every one 
great material advantages, but it gave no one anything 
to love. Tlie insupportable melancholy of such a life 
appeared worse than death. 

Accordingly, in spite of the efforts of statesmen, the 
confraternities multiplied immensel3^ They were pre- 
cisely analogous to our coiifraternities of the middle 
age, with their patron saint and their common refec- 
tory. The great families might centre their pride in 
their ancient name, their country, and their traditions: 
but the humble and the poor had nothing but the 
collegium^ and there they fastened all their affections. 
The text of the law shows us that all these clubs were 
composed of slaves,^' veterans,'*^ or obscure per6(Mis.'*^ 
Wirhin their precincts the free-born man, the freednian, 
and the slave, were equal.-^*^ They contained also many 
women. At the risk of innumerable taunts and an- 
noyances, and sometimes of severer penalties, men per- 
sisted in entering the collegium^ where they lived in the 
bonds of a pleasant brotherhood, where they found 
mutual succor in time of need, and where they con- 
tracted obligations which endured even after death.-^-^ 

The place of meeting usually had a tetrastyle (por- 
tico with four tVonts), where were set up the I'ules of 
the club near the altar of its protecting divinity, and 



THE APOSTLES. 



285 



TTliere stood a triclinium for the repasts.^^ These repasts 
indeed were looked forward to with impatience; they 
took place on the day sacred to the patron divinity, or 
on the birthdays of members who had contributed 
endowments.^ Every one brought his little portion ; 
one of the brotherhood furnished in turn the accessories 
of the feast, such as couches, table-furniture, bread 
wine, sardines, and hot water.^ A slave, newly eman- 
cipated, owed his comrades an amphora ^oodi wine.^ 
A quiet air of enjoyment animated the repast ; it was a 
positive rule that none of the business of the society 
should be discussed, in order that nothing might disturb 
the brief interval of enjoyment and repose which these 
poor souls were thus providing for themselves.^^ Every 
violent act or rude remark was punished by a fine/'^ 

In appearance these clubs were siujply associations 
for burial of the members.^^ But that object alone 
would have been enough to invest them with a moral 
character. In the Roman, as in our own time, and as in 
all ages wdien the religious sentiment is weakened, reve- 
rence for the tomb is nearly all that the masses retain. 
The poor man loved to believe that his body would 
not be cast into those horrible common trenches ;^ 
that his club would provide for his decent obsequies; 
that the brethren who should follow him on foot to 
the funei-al pile would receive each a little honorarium^^ 
(about four cents) in testimony of respect for the 
departed.^2 The slave especially felt the need of an 
assurance that if his master denied him the privilege 
of the ordinary rites of sepulture, there would be a 
little band of friends who would perform " imaginary 
obsequies."® Hardly any was so humble or destitute 



286 



THE APOSTLES. 



as not to contribute a penny per month to tlie common 
fund to procure after his death a little urn in a Coluin- 
hariu77i, with a slab of marble on wliich his name should 
be carved. Sepulture among the Romans was of extreme 
importance, being closely connected with the sacra 
ge7itilitia^ or family rites. Persons interred together 
even contracted a sort of intimate fraternity or relation- 
ship.^^ 

These facts show why Christianity for a long time 
presented itself at Rome as a kind of funeral associa- 
tion, and why the earliest Christian sanctuaries were the 
tombs of the martyrs. If Christianity had been notliing 
more, it would not have provoked so much hostility. 
But it was much more. It provided a common trea- 
sury it considered itself a complete municipality; it 
believed in its own assured permanency and continuity. 
When one enters on a Saturday night one of the Grreek 
churches in Turkey, for example that of St. Photinus 
at Smyrna, he is struck with the power of those asso- 
ciated rehgious memberships existing in the midst of a 
persecuting or hostile community. That irregular col- 
lection of buildings (church, presbyter}^, school, prison); 
these brethren passing to and fro in their little inclosed 
city of refuge ; these newly-opened tombs, with the lighted 
lamps within ; this odor of dampness, deca}^, and mould; 
this murmur of prayer; these appeals for alms — create 
a deadened and subdued atmosphere which may, to 
a stranger, appear sufficiently monotonous or repulsive, 
but which must be full of attraction to the affiliated 
members. 

The societies, when once provided with a special 
authorization, possessed at Rome all the rights and pri- 



THE APOSTLES. 



287 



vileges of civil persons.^^ This authorization was, liow- 
ever, gi-autecl only with many resti'ictions wheiievor the 
society possessed a treasury and sought to concern it.selt* 
with anytliing but sepulture.^ The pretext of religious 
observances, or the performance of vows in common, 
was guarded against by law, and formally declared to bo 
one of the circumstances which attached to an assembly 
the character of crime ; and the crime was nothing 
less than high treason, at least as regards the person 
who called the meeting together.™ Claudius even closed 
the taverns where the brethren met, and the small eat- 
ing-houses where the poor were furnished cheaply with 
hot water and boiled meat.''^ Trajan and the more libe- 
ral monarchs continued to view all these societies with 
distrust.'^^ Low rank was an essential condition without 
which the privilege of religious assemblage was never 
accorded, and even then it was granted most sparing- 
ly.'^ The lawj^ers who built up the Eoman juiispi'u- 
dence, so eminent in legal science, displayed their 
ignorance of human nature by opposing in every way, 
even with the menace of death, and by hedging in with 
all sorts of odious and puerile restrictions an everlasting 
need of the soul of man.'^^ Like the authors of the 
" Code Civil ^''^ they regarded life with a wintry glance. 
If man's life consisted in amusino^ himself under the 
orders of his superiors, in munching his crust and tast- 
ing his puny pleasures in his rank under the eye of a 
taskmaster, all this would be well devised. But the 
retribution awarded to social systems which follow this 
false and contracted view, is first a melancholy disgu:4, 
and next a violent triumph of religious partisans. 
Never will man consent to breathe that icy air. He 



2S8 



THE APOSTLES. 



needs the ]i\tle circle, the brotherhood where he may 
hve and die amongst his fellows. Our vast abstract 
social organizations are not sufficient to supply all the 
social instincts which exist in man. Let him alone to 
attach his heart to something, to seek consolation where 
it may be found, to make brothers to himself, and to 
draw closer the ties of affection. Let not the cold arm 
of the state break into this kingdom of the soul, which 
is also the realm of liberty. True life and happiness 
will not spring up again in this world until that sad 
heritage left us b}^ Roman law, our inveterate distrust of 
the private assemljhj (colli gmm)^ shall have disappeared. 
Association independent of the state, without injury to 
the state, is the great question of the future. The laws 
to be made in regai-d to associations will determine 
whether or not modern society will tend to the same 
destiny as ancient. One example should suffice. The 
Roman empire bound its own existence to the law relat- 
ing to unlawful assemblages. Christians and barbarians, 
accomplishing in this respect the task of human con- 
science, broke down that law, and the empire haviug 
planted itself thereon, went down with it. 

The Greek and Roman world, a secular and profane 
world, which possessed not the true conception of a min- 
ister of religion, which had neither divine law nor a 
revealed word, had here stumbled upon a problem which 
it was unable to solve. And we may add that if it had 
possessed a body of consecrated priests, a severe theology, 
and a strongly organized sj^stern of religion, it would 
not have created the secular state, or inaugurated the 
idea of a social system founded merely on reason, and 
on the human v/ants and natural relations of individuals. 



THE APOSTLES. 



289 



The religious inferiority of the Greeks and Eomans was 
the result of their political and intellectual superiority. 
The religious superiority of the Jews, on the contrary, 
has proved the cause of their political and philosophical 
inferiority. Judaism and primitive Christianity com- 
prised the negation of the civil authority, or perhaps we 
may more accurately say the putting it under guardian- 
ship. Like the system of Mahomet, they established 
social order upon the basis of religion. When human 
affairs are controlled from that direction, great and uni- 
versal proselytisms are made, apostles traverse the world 
from end to end, reforming and converting it ; but in 
that manner are not constructed political institutions, 
national independence, a dynasty, a code, or a homoge- 
neous people. 

13 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THE FUTUJRE OF MISSIONS. 

Such was tlie world which the Christian missionaries 
nndertook to convert. It may now be readily perceived, 
it seems to me, that the enterprise was nothing impos- 
sible, and that its success was no miracle. The world 
was fermenting with moral longings to which the new 
religion answered admirably. Manners were losing 
their rudeness; a purer religion was looked for; and 
the notions of human rights and social improvement 
were everywhere gaining ground. On the other hand, 
credulity was extreme, and the number of educated 
persons very limited. To such a world, a few earnest 
apostles had only to present themselves, believing in one 
God and, as disciples of Jesus, imbued with the most be- 
neficent moral doctrine the ears of men ever listened to, 
and they could not fail to be heard. The imaginary 
miracles which they mingled with their teaching would 
aot hinder their success; for the number of those who 
would refuse to believe in the supernatural or miracu- 
lous was very small. If the apostles were humble and 
poor, so much the better. Humanity, in the condition 
it had then arrived at, could not be saved but by an 
effort springing from the masses. The ancient heathen 
religions were not susceptible of reform. The Roman 
stare was what the state alvvays will be — rigid, dry, and 
unyielding. In such a world perishing for want of 



THE APOSTLES. 



291 



love, the future is the property of liim wlio can touch 
the living spring of popular devotion, to do whieh, 
Greek liberalism and the old Honian gravity were 
alike impotent. 

The founding of Christianity is in this view the 
mightiest work which the men of the people have ever 
accomplished. At an early day, it is true, we tind men 
and women of high rank at Rome joining themselvea 
to the Church ; and about the end of the lirst century, 
the examples of Flavins Clemens and Flavia Domitilla 
show^ that Christianity w^as penetrating almost within 
the palace of the Csesars.^ From the time of the first 
Antonines there w^ere some rich men in the Christian 
communities; and near the close of the second century 
we find in them a few of the most distinguished persons 
of the empire.^ But at the commencetnent, all or 
nearly all were of humble condition.^ The noble and 
powerful of the earth were fouml in the earliest 
churches no more than in Galilee, following the foot- 
steps of Jesus. Now in these great movements the 
beginning is the decisive moment. The glory of a 
religion belongs entirely to its founders. Religion, in 
fact, is an aff'air of faith, and to exercise faith is an easy 
thing; the master-work is to inspire it. 

When we try to become acquainted with the marvel- 
lous origin of Christianity, we ordinarily regard matters 
by the standards of our own day, and are thus led into 
^rave errors. The man of the people in the first century, 
esj)ecially in the Greek and Oriental countries, was in no 
wise similar to what he is amongst us, and at this day. 
Education had not then separated classes as widely as a 
present. The Mediterranean races, excepting the Latin 



292 



THE APOSTLES. 



tribes, wliicli liad lost all importance since the empire 
by the conquest of the world had becoirie a mixture of 
vanquished nations, were less solid than moderns, and 
were more vivacious, excitable, imaginative, and quick 
of ap])rehensioii. The heavy materialism of our iowef 
classes, and their apparent melancholy and dulness, 
which are in part the result of climate, and in part the 
ead legacy of the Dark Ages, and whicii stamp our 
poor with so distressful a physiognomy, did not operate 
upon the same chisses in the early times. Although 
they were indeed very ignorant and ci*edulous, ihey 
were not much more so than the rich and powerful of 
their day. 

Tlie establishment of Christianity cannot then be con- 
sidered analogous to a popular movement in the pre- 
sent age, starting from the common people and at last 
commandin.o' the assent of the educated class. This 
Vv^Ould vvitli us be simply imp')ssible. The founders of 
Christianity belonged to the common people in a certain 
sense, it is true. They were clothed in the same man- 
ner, lived poorly and frugally, and spoke without pol- 
ish, or rather sought only to express tlieir thoughts with 
energy. But they were inferior in intelligence to only 
a very small and constantly diminishing class of men, 
the survivors of the refined age of CcBsar and Augustus. 
In compai'ison with the philosophers who flourished 
from the time of Augustus to that of the Antonines, 
the lirst Christians were of course illiterate. In con.i- 
parison with the great mass of their feliovz-subjects, they 
were enlightened men. At times they were even 
looked on as free-thinkers, and the cry of the populace 
arose, " Down with the Atheists !''^ This need not sur- 



THE APOSTLES. 



prise ns. The world was inaking stariling progross ir. 
credulitj. The two earliest strongholds of Gentile 
Christianity, Antioch and Ephesns, were of all tlic 
cities ill the empire the most superstitious. The second 
and third centuries cari'ied tlie love of the marvellous 
close to the borders of folly and madness. 

Christianity ai'C)Se outside of the official w^(Vi'ld, but 
not entirely beneatli it. It was only in appearance, and 
as viewed according to worldly prtjudices, that the 
disciples of Jesus w^ere of an insignihcant class. The 
WT)rldling admires pride and strength, and w^astes no 
affability on inferiors. Honor in his view consists in 
repelling insult. He despises the spirit wdiich is meek, 
long sufferitig, humble, wdiich yields its cloak also, and 
turns its cheek to the smiter. He is wi-ong; the meek- 
ness which he disdains is the mark of a loftier soul than 
his own ; and the highest virtues dwell more content- 
edly wdth those who obey and serve than with those 
wdio command and enjoy. And this accords wdth rea- 
son ; for power and pleasure, so far from aiding us in 
the practice of virtue, are hindrances in the way. 

Jesus knew^ well that tlie heart of the common people 
was the great reservoir of the self-devotion and resigna- 
tion by which alone the world could be saved. Hence 
he called the poor blessed, deeming it easier for tliem 
to b<' g'>!)d than for others. The primitive Christians 
wei c caocntially " poor it w^as their rightful title.^ 
Even if a Christian possessed riches in the second and 
thii'd centuries, he was poor in spirit, and classed him- 
self among the pooi", and was saved from persecution 
by claiming the privilege of the law concerning the 
'^collegia tenuiorura.''^^ It is true that all the Christiana 



29i 



THE APOSTLES. 



were not slaves or persons of low rank ; but the social 
equivalent of a Christian was a slave, and the saniy 
terms were applied to both ; while the cardinal virtues 
of the servile condition — gentleness, humility, and resi<j5 
nation — were aimed at by both alike. The heathen 
writers are unanimous on this point. All of them' 
without exception recognise in the Clirisrian the traits 
of servile character, such as indifference to public 
affairs, a subdued and melancholy air, a severe estimate 
of the vices of the age, and a settled aversion to the 
theatres, baths, gymnasia, and public games.^ 

In a word, the heathen were the world ; the Chris- 
tians were not of the world. They were a little flock 
apart, hated of the world, reproving its iniquities,^ seek- 
ing to keep themselves "unspotted from the world." ^ 
The ideal of the Christian was wholly opposed to that 
of the worldling.^^ The sincere Christian loved to be 
humble, and cultivated the virtues of the poor and 
simple and self-abasing. Ho had also the defects which 
accompany these virtues. He considered as vain and 
frivolous many things which are not so. He belittled 
the universe, looking on beauty and art with a hostile 
or contemptuous eye. A system under which the 
Yenus of Milo is only a stone idol is erroneous, or at the 
least partial; for beauty is almost the equivalent of 
goodness and of truth. When such ideas prevailed, 
the decay of art was inevitable. The Christian set no 
store by architecture, sculpture, or painting; he was 
too much of an idealist. He cared little for the ad- 
vancement of science, for it was to him nothing but 
idle curiosity. Contbunding the higher enjoyments of 
the soul, by which we touch upon the iuflnite, with 



THE APOSTLES. 



295 



vnl'^-ai* pleasures, lie denied himself all amusement. 
He pushed his virtues to excess. 

Another law demands our attention at this pcrio ], 
which will not fail to have its influence upon the histoi y 
we arc to recount. The establishment of Chrisi iniiii v 
corresponds in time with the suppression of political lifb 
in the Mediterranean world. The subjects of the iiiij) ^- 
rial sway had ceased to have a country. If any one sen- 
timent was wholly wanting in the founders of the Churcli, 
it was patriotism. They were not even cosmopolites, citi- 
zens of the world ; for the planet was to them only a place 
of exile, and they were idealists in tlie most absolute 
sense. The country is a composite object; it has body 
and soul. The vsoul is its recollections, customs, legends, 
misfortunes, hopes, and common regrets; the body its 
soil, race, language, mountains, rivers, chai"acteristic })ro- 
ductions. But never were any people so regardless of 
all this as the primitive Christians. Judea could not re- 
tain their affection. A few years passed, and they had 
forgotten the walks of Galilee. The glories of Greece 
and Rome were foolishness to them. The resfions in 
which Christianity first rooted itself — Syria, Cyprus, and 
Asia Minor — -could not recall the period when they had 
been free. Greece and Rome still possessed rnuch na- 
tional pride. But at Rome the patriotism was hardly 
felt outside of the army and a few families ; while in 
Greece, Christianity flourished only at Corinth, a city 
which, after its destruction by Mum mi us and its re- 
building by Ca3sar, was a mixture of men from every 
laud. The true Greek tribes were then, as now, very 
exclusive in their notions, absorbed in the memory of their 
past; and paid little heed to the new doctrine. They 



296 



THE APOSTLES. 



proved but half-waj Christians. On the otlicr hand, tlie 
gaj, luxurious, and pleasure-loving inhabitants of Asia 
and Syria, accustomed to a life of enjoyment, of easy 
manners, and used to accept the customs and laws of eveiy 
new conqueror, had nothing in the shape of national 
pride or cherished traditions to lose. The early centres 
of Christianity — Antioch, Ephesus, Thessalonica, Corinth, 
and Rome — were, if I may so express it, public cities ; 
cities like modern Alexandria, whither all races gather, 
and where that union and tie of affection between the 
citizen and the soil which constitutes a nation, were en- 
tirely unknown. 

The interest of the public in social questions is always 
in inverse ratio to its preoccupation with politics. Social- 
ism advances when patriotism becomes weak. Chris- 
tianity was an explosion of social and religious ideas which 
could not have had free scope until Augustus had sup- 
pressed political contests. It was destined, like Islamism, 
to become in essence an enemy of the tendency to sepa- 
rate nationa,lity. Man}^ ages and many schisms would 
be necessary before national established churches could 
be derived out of a relio-ion which started with the ne«:a- 
tion of the idea of any earthly home or country ; which 
arose at an epoch when the distinctive city and citizen of 
early Greece and Italy had ceased to exist; and when 
the stern and vigorous republican spirit of a former pe- 
.riod had been carefully sifted out as deadly poison to 
the state. 

Here then is one of the canses of the grandeur of 
the new religion. Humanity is diverse and changeable 
in feeling, and constantly agitated by contradictory 
desires. Great is the love of country and sacred are the 



TQE AI'OSFLES. 



Leroes of Marallioii, Thei-inopylce, Yjilinv, an(l Flonrns 
One's country, however, is not everytliing here beh)Vv 
Man is a man aiul a cltihvl of God before he is a French 
man or a German. The kino^ilom of God, tliat eternal 
vision which cannot be torn out of the heart of man, is 
tlie protest of liis uatnre against the excliisiveness of 
patriotism. The idea of a great and universal organi- 
zation of the race to bring about its greatest vrelfarc 
and its moral improvement, is both legitimate and 
Christian. The state knows and can knovv' only one 
thing, the organization of self-interest. Tin's is some- 
thing, for self-inrei-est is the strongest and most engross- 
ino: of human motives. But it is not enou«;h. Govern- 
ments founded on tlie theory that num is composed of 
selfish wants and desires alone, have proved greatly 
mistaken. Devotion is as natui'al iis egotism to the race, 
and religion is organized devotion. Let none expect, 
then, to do witliout reiigion or i-eiigious associations. 
Every forward src]) of modern society will render the 
need of religion more imperious. 

Wii can now see liow these recitals of strange events 
may prove illustrative and instructive. We n.eed n(~>t 
reject the lesson because of certain traits which the 
difference of times and manners has invested v.'ith aii 
odd or unusual as})ect. In regard to popuhir convic- 
tions, there is alvrays an immense diaproportion between 
the greatness of the ideal aimed at by the system of 
belief, and the trifling nature of the actu;d facts which 
have given rise to it. Hence the particularity Vvith 
y/hich religious history mingles common details and 
actions approaching folly with its most sublime events 
and doctrines. The monk who contrived the holy vial 

13* 



298 



THE APOSTLES. 



was one of the fonnders of tlie Freiicli iiioiiarcfi v. AVlia 
would not willingly eiface from the life of Jesus the 
story of tiie demoniacs of Gadara ? What man of cool 
blood and common sense would have acted like F'rancis 
of Assisi, Joan of Arc, Peter the Hermit, or Igmitius 
Loyola. Terms attributing folly or fanaticism to the 
actions of past ages must of necessity be deemed merely 
relative. If our ideas are to be taken as the standard, 
there was never a prophet, apostle, or saint, who o\ight 
not to have been c<)ntined as a lunatic. Conscience is 
very unstable in periods when reflection is not mature, 
and then good Ijecomes evil, and evil good, by insensible 
stages. Unless we admit this, it is impossible to form 
a just estimate of the past. The same divine breath 
vitalizes all history and gives to it wonderful unity, 
but human faculties have produced an infinite variety 
of cond:)inations. The apostles differed less in charac- 
ter from us thaii did the founders of Buddhism, al- 
though the lattei* were allied more nearly to us in lan- 
guage and })robably in race. Our own age has wit- 
nessed I'eligious movements quite as extraordinary as 
those of former times; niovements attended with as 
much enthusiasm, which have already had in propor- 
tion more martyrs, and the future of "which is still 
undetermined. 

I do not refer to the Mormons, a sect in some respects 
so degraded and absurd that one hesitates to seriously 
consider it. There is much to suggest reflection, how- 
ever, in seeing thousands of men of our own race 
livino; in the miraculous in the middle of the nineteenth 
century, and blindly believing in the wonders which 
they piofess to have seen and touched. A literature 



THE APOSTLES. 



209 



lia^ already arisorj pretending to reconcile Monnonibni 
and science. But, what is of more importance, this 
i-eligion, founded npon silly inipostnres, has iiis[)ire(l 
])rodigles of patience and self-denial. Five liundi-e 1 
years hence, learned professors will seek to prove icS 
divine origin l)y the miracle of its establishment. 

Jj'ib-ism in Persia was a phenomenon much more 
astonishing.^^ A mild and unassuming n)an, in cha- 
racter and opinion a sort of pious and modest Spinoza, 
was suddenly and almost in spite of himself raised to 
the rank of a worker of miracles and a divine incarna- 
tion ; and became the head of a numerous, ardent, and 
fanatical sect, which came near accomplishing a revo- 
lution like that of Mahomet. Thousands of martyrs 
rushed to death for him with joyful alacrity. The great 
butchery of his followers at Ttdieran was a scene per- 
haps unparalleled in history. '"That day in the streets 
and hazaars of Tehei-an," says an eye-witness, '* the 
residents will never forget. To this moment when it is 
talked of, the mingled wonder and horror which the 
citizens then experienced aj)j)ears unabated l)y the 
bipse of years. They saw women and chikli-en walking 
forward between their executioners, with iijreat iJ:ashL'S 
all over their bodies and burning matches thrust into 
the wounds. The victims were dragged along by 
ropes, and hurried on by strokes of the whip. Chil- 
dren and women went singing a verse to this effect, 
'Yerily we came from God, and to him shall we re- 
turn ! ' Ttieir shrill voices rose loud and clear in the 
])rofound silence of the multitude. If one of these 
poor wretches fell down, and the guards forced him up 
again with blows or bayonet-thrusts, as he staggered 



800 



THE APOSTLES. 



on with the blood trickling clown every linib, he wouhl 
spend his remaining energy in dancing and crying in 
an access of zeal, ' Yerily we are God's, and to him we 
return ! ' Some of the children expired on the way. 
The executioners threw their corpses in front of their 
fathers and their sisters, who yet marched proudly on, 
giving hardly a second glance. At the place of exe- 
cution life was offered them if they would abjure, but 
to no purpose. One of the condemned was informed 
that unless he recanted, the throats of his two sons 
should be cut upon his own bosom. The eldest of 
these little boys was fourteen years old, and they stood 
red with their own blood and with their flesh burned 
and blistered, calmly listening to the dialogue. The 
father, stretching himself upon the earth, answered 
that he was ready ; and the oldest boy, eagerly claim- 
ing his birthright, asked to be murdered first.^^ At 
length all was over ; night closed in upon heaps of 
mangled carcasses; the heads were suspended in 
bunches on the scaffold, and the dogs of the faubourgs 
gathered in troops from every side as darkness veiled 
the awful scene." 

This happened in 1852. In the reign of Chosroes 
ISTouschirvan, the sect of Masdak was smothered in blood 
in the same way. Absolute devotion is to simple na- 
tures the most exquisite of enjoyments, and, in fact,' a 
necessity. In the Bab persecution, people who had 
hardly joined the sect came and denounced themselves, 
that they might suffer wuth the rest. It is so sweet to 
mankind to suffer for something, that the allurement 
of martyrdom is itself often enough to inspire faith. 
A disciple who shared the tortures of Bab, hanging bj 



THE APOSTl^ES. 



301 



liis side on the ramparts of Tabriz and awaiting a lin- 
gering death, had only one woi'd to sav — Master, liavo 
I done well?" 

Tliose who regard as eitlier niiracnlons or chimerical 
everything in history which transcends the ordinary 
calculations of common sense, will find sncli facts as 
these inexplicable. The fundamental cr)nditi()n of 
criticism is to be able to comprehend the diverge states 
of the human soul. Absolute faith is a thing entirely 
foreign to us. Beyond the positive sciences which 
possess a material certainty, all c)pinion is in our view * 
only an approximation to the truth, and necessarily 
implies some error. The amount of error may be as 
small as yon please, but is never zero in regard to 
moral subjects. Such is not tlie niethod of narrow and 
bigoted minds, like the Oriental for example. The 
mental vision of tliose races is not like ours ; theirs is 
dull and fixed like the enamelled eyes of figures in 
mosaic. They see only one thing at a time, and that 
takes entire possession of them. Tliey are not their 
own masters whether to believe or not. There is no 
room for an afrer-thought with them. People who 
embrace an opinion after this fashion will die f)r it. 
The martyr is in religion what the partisan is in politics. 
There have not been many very intelligent martyrs. 
The Christians who confessed their faith under Diocle- 
tian, would have been, after peace was gained for the 
Church, rather unpleasant and impracticable person- 
ages. One is never very tolerant when he believes 
himself entirely in the right, and his opponents entirely 
in the wrong. 

Great religious movements, being thus the results of 



302 



THE APOSTLES. 



a coiiniied method of viewing moral snhjects, ai'e 
enigmas to an age like the present, in which the streng; h 
of conviction is enfeebled. Among us, the man of 
sincerity is continually modifying his opinions, because 
both the world around him and his own nature are 
changing. We believe in many things at once. We 
love justice and the truth, and would expose our lives 
in their cause ; but we do not admit that justice and 
truth can be the peculiar property of any sect or party. 
We are good P^renchmen, but we confess that the Ger- 
mans and the English excel us in many respects. IS^ot 
so in e|)ochs and countj-ies where every man belongs 
with his wdiole nature to his own comnnmity, race, or 
school of politics. Hence all the great religious de- 
velo|)ments have occurred in states of society when 
the general mind was more or less analogous to the 
oriental. In fact, it is only absolute faith that has 
hithei'to succeeded in conquei-ing souls. A pious ser- 
vant-gii-1 of Lyons named Bhmdina, who suffered for 
her religion 1700 years ago; a rough chieftain, Clovis, 
who saw lit some fourteen centuries back to en)brace 
Catholicism — are still giving law to us. 

Who is there who has not at some time while wander- 
ing througli our old cities, now so rapidly being modern- 
ized, |)au8ed at the foot of one of the gigantic monu- 
ments of the faith of the Middle Age! Everything 
around is becoming new ; not a vestige of ancient cus- 
toms remains; the cathedral alone stniids, a little lowered 
p(>rhaps by men's violence, but firmly rooted in the soil. 
Mole sua stall Its strength is its i-ight. It h;is withstood 
the fl(;od which hns washed away its surroundings. Not 
one of the men of old, should here visit the spots which 



THE APOSTLES. 



once knew liim, could find bis former borne. OF all tbe 
dwellers tbere, tbe rooks ;ilone wbo built tbeir nests in 
tbe lofty niebes of tbe consecrated edifice, bave never 
seen tbe bammer of destruction raised against tbeir 
abode. Strange destiny ! Those simple martyrs, tlios.* 
rude converts, tbose pirate cburcb-builders, rule us stilL ' 
AVe are Cbi-istians because it pleased tbem to be so. As 
in pobtics, it is only systems f)unded by barbarians 
wbicb have enduivd; so in religion it is only tbe sponta- 
neous, and, if I may so express it, fanatical movements, 
wbicb are contagious. Tbeir success dt'pends not on the 
more or less satisf icU)r\^ proofs they i'uriiisb of tlieir di- 
vine ori.u'in, but is proportioned to what they bave to say 
to tbe hearts oF the ]:)eoj)1e. 

Are we then to conclude that religion is destined 
gradually to die away like tbe })0[)ular fallacies concern- 
ing magic, sorcery, and gbosts ? By no means. Keligion 
is not a popular fdlacv; it is a great intuitive truth, felt 
and ex[)ressed by the peopb'. All the symbols which 
serve to give shape to the religious sentiment are imper- 
fect, an 1 their fate is to be one after another reie(3t(xl. 
But n( thing is more remnte fi-om tlie truth than the 
dream of those who seek to imagine a perfected bu- 
manity without religion. The contrary idea is the truth. 
The Chinese, a very inferior branch of humanity, have 
bardly any religious sentiment. But if we suppose a 
planet inhabited by a race wli()se intellectual, moral, and 
physical force were tbe double of our own, tliat race 
would be at least twice as religious as we. I say "at 
least," for it is likely that tbe I'eligious sentiment would 
increase more rapidl}^ than tbe intellectual capacity, and 
not in merely direct propoi'tiou. Let us sup[)o3e a bu- 



301 



THE APOSTf.ES. 



innnit}^ ten times as powerful as we are; it would bo 
infinitely more religious. It is even probable that at 
this degree of sublime elevation, being freed fi-om ma- 
terial cares and egotism, endowed with perfect judgment 
and appreciation, and perceiving clearly the baseness and 
nothingness of all that is not true, good, or beautiful, 
man would be wholly a religious being, and would spend 
his days in ceaseless adoration, passing from ecstasy to 
ecstasy of religious rapture, and living and dying in the 
loftiest delight of the soul. Egotism is the measure of 
inferiority, and decreases as we recede fi'om the animal 
nature. A perfected being would no longer .be selfish, 
but purely religious. The pn)gress of humanity, then, 
cannot destroy or weaken religion, but will develop and 
increase it. 

But it is time that we return to tlie three missionaries, 
Paul, Barnabas, and Mark, whom we left as they sallied 
forth from Antioch by the Sdeucian gate. In my third 
bo(dv I shall attempt to trace tlie footsteps of these 
messengers of good r^'pr)rt, by land and sea, in calm and 
storm, through good ;ind evil days. I long to recount 
that unequalled epic; to depict tliose tossing waves so 
often traversed, and those endless journeyings in Asia 
and Europe, during which the Gospel-seed was sown. 
The great Christian Odyssey begins. Already the apos- 
tolic bark has spread its sails, and the freshening breeze 
rf^joices to bear upon its wings the words of Jesus. 



FINIS. 



NOTES. 



NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTIOJT. 

1. The author of the Acts does not directly give to St. Paul the title of 
apostle. This title is, in g-eneral, reserved by him for the membera 
of tlie central college, at Jerusalem. 

2. Hom. Pseudo-Ciem., xvii. 13-19. 

3. Justin, Apol. i. 39. In the ^icts also is seen the idea that Peter 
^vas the Apostle of the Gentiles. See especially Chap, x., comp. 
Petri i. 1. 

4. I Cor. in 6, 10; iv. 14, 15; ix. 1, 2. IT. Cor., xi. 2, etc. 

5. Letter of Denys of Corinth in Euseb. Hist Ecd. ii. 25. 

6. French readers, for amiDle details upon the discussion and comparison 
of the four narratives, may see Strauss, Vie de Jesus, 3d sect., 
chapters iv. and v. (traduction Littre); Nbavelle Vte de J-^sus,. 1. i., § 
46, &c.; 1, ii. § 97, &c. (translation Nefftzer and Dollfus). 

"7. The Church early admitted chis. See the canon of Muratori {Anf.iq. 
Ital. iii. 854), (Neutostamentliche Studien, Grotha, ISGGj, lines 33, &c. 

8. Luke 1. 1-4 ; Acts i. 1. 

9. See especially Ads^ xvi. 12. 

10. The paucity of language in the New Testament writers is so great 
that each one has his own dictionary ; so th it the writers of even 
very short manuscripts can bo easily recognised. 

11. The use of this word, AcU xiv. 4, 14, is very indirect. 

12. Comp. for example. Ads xvii. 14-lG; xvih. 5, with I. Tiiess. iii. 1-2. 

13. L Cor. XV. 32; TL Cor. i. 8; xi. 23, .tc. ; Ro n. xv. 19; xvi. 3, &c. 

14. Ads x\'i 6; xviii. 22-23. compared with the l']pistle to the Gala- 
tiaus. 

15. For instance, the sojourn at Cesarea is left in obscurity. 

16. Mabillon, Museum liaUcuyn, L 1 pars, p. 109. 

17. CoL iv. 34. - 

18. See above, p. xu. 

19. Almost aU the inscriptions are Latin, as at Naples (Cavala), the 
port of Pliilippi. See llouzoy, Jfissmi de JIacedolne, p. 11, &c. The 
remarkable familiarity with nautical subjects of the author of the 



THE APOSTLES. 



Acts (see especially chapters xxvii-xxviii), would give rise to the 
belief' that he was a Neapolitan. 

20. For example, Acts x. 28. 

21. Acts V. 36-37. 

22. The Hebraisms of his style may arise from careful reading of G-reek 
translations of the Old Testament, and above all, from reading the 
manuscripts of his co-religionists of Palestine, whom he often copied 
word for word. His quotations from the Old Testament are made 
without any acquaintance with the original text (for example, xv. 
16, &c.). 

23. Acts xvii. 22, &c. 

24. Luke i. 26; iv. 31; xxiv. 13. 

25. Luke i. 31, compared with Matthew i. 21. The name of Jeanne, 
known only to Luke, is dubious. See, liowever, Tahu. de Bab. 
Sota, 22 a. 

26. Acts ii. 47; iv. 33; v. 13, 26. 

27. Acts ix. 22, 23; xii. 3, 11; xiii. 45, 50, and many other passages. 
It is the same with the fourth gospel also compiled out of Syria. 

28. Luke x. 33, &c. ; xvii. 16; Acts viii. 5, &c. The same in the 
fourth gospel: Johu iv. 5, &c. 

29. Acts xxviii. 30. 

30. See Vie de Jesus. 

31. Luke xxiv. 50. Mark xvi. 19, shows a similar arrangemeut. 

32. Acts i. 3, 9. 

33. See especially Luke i. 1, the expression rwi/ iTe-\iip)'popriiieiDv iv hin* 

TT'lilYIJIirU))', 

34. Ch. X. xxii. xxvi. 

35. The centurion Cornelius, the proconsul Sergius Paulus. 

36. Acts xiii. 7, &c. ; xviii. 12, &c. ; xix. 35, &c. • xxiv. 7, 17; xxv. 
9, 16, 25; xxvii 2; xxviii. 17-18. 

37. Ibid. xvi. 37, &c. ; xxii. 26, &c. 

38. Similar precautions were by no means rare. In the Apocalypse 
and the Epistle of Peter, Rome is alluded to in disguised language. 

39. Luke i. 4. 

40. Acts i. 22. 

41. See Vie de J'siis, p. xxxix. &c. 

42 This is obvious, especially in the history of the centurion Oorne* 
lius. 

43. Acts ii. 47; iv. 33; v. 13, 26. Of Luke, xxiv. 19-20. 

44. Acts ii. 44-45; iv. 34, &c.; v. 1, &c. 

45. I. Cor. xii-xiv. Comp. Mark xvi. 17, and Acts ii. 4-13; x. 4G 
xi. 15; xix. 6. 

46. Comp. Acts iii. 2, &c., to xiv. 8, &c. ; ix. 36, &c., to xx. 9, &c ; v. 



THE APOSTLES. 



307 



I, &c., with xiii. 9, &e ; v. 15-16, to xix. 12 ; xii. *7, &c., witii xvL 
26, &c. ; X. 44, with xix. 6. 

47. In a speech attributed by the author to G-amaliel, about the year 36, 
Theudas is spoken of as anterior to Judas of G-alilee ( J.cfe v. 36-37) 
Now the revolt of Theudas was in the year 44 (Jos. Ant. xx. v. 1), 
and certainly after that of the Gahleaa (Jos. Ani.^ xviii. i. 1 ; B. J., 

II , viii. 1. 

48. Those who cannot refer to the G-erraan works of Baur, Schneckcn- 
burger, TVette, Schwegler, Zeller, where critical questions relative 
to the Acts are brought to almost a definite solution, may consult 
Etudes Historiques et Critiques sur les Origines du C/iristiamsme, by A. 
Stap (Paris, Lacroix, 1864), p. 116, &c. ; Michel Nicolas Etudes 
Critiques sur la Bible; Nouveau Testammi (Paris, Levy, 1864), p. 223, 
&c.); Reuss, Histoire de la T/i 'o^.ogie Ghretienneau siecle Aposiolique L 
vi. ch. v.; other works of MM. Kayser, Scherer, Reuss, in the 
Revue de Tlv'ologie of Strasburg, 1st series, vol. ii and iii. ; 2d 
series, vol. ii. and iii. 

49 For the exact meaning of Tzpoaavt^invv aapKi Kal alfjan, comp. Matt, 
xvi. 17. 

50. He declares it on oath. See chapters L and ii. of the Epistle to 
the G-alatians. 

51. Acts xii. 1. 

62. Jos. Ant. XIX. viii. 2 ; B. J. IL xii. 6. 

53. The quotation from Amos (xv. 16-17), made by James according to 
the Greek version, and in non-accordance with the Hebrew, also 
shows that this speech is a fiction of the author. 

54. "We shall show later that this is the true sense. Any way, the 
question of the circumcision of Titus is of no importance here. 

55. Comp. Acts xv. 1; Gal. i. 7 ; ii. 12. 

56. L Cor. viii. 4, 9; x. 25, 29. 

57. Acts, xxi. 20, &c. 

58. Above aU. die Ebionites. See the Homilies Pseudo-Clem. Irenseus. 
Adv. hser. I. xxvi. 2; Epiphanius, Adv. haer., hser. xxx; St. Jerome. 
la Matt. xii. 

59. I would nevertheless willingly lose Ananias and Sapphira. 

60. De Bivinatione, ii. 57. 

61. Preface to the Etudes d^ Histoire Religieuse. 



CHAPTER L 

I. Mark xvi. 11 ; Luke xviii. 34; xxiv. 44; John xx. 9, 24, and follow, 
ing verses. The contrary opinion in Matt. xii. 40 ; xxi. 4, 24 ; xvii. 
9, 23; XX. 19; xxxi. 32;' Mark viii. 34; ix. 9, 10—31 ; x. 34; Luke 
Lx. 22; xi. 29, 30; xviii. 31 et seq. ; xxiv. 6-8. Justin, Peal cum 



308 



THE APOSTLFS. 



Tryph. lOG, proceeds from a source on v/hicli, be.^inning from a 
certain epoch, considerable reliance may be placed as to the an- 
nonncenients which Jesus had made in reference to his resurrec- 
tion. Tlie synoptit-als acl^nowledge, moreover, that if Jesus spake of 
it at all, his disciples understood notldng of it (Marl< ix. 10, 32; 
Luke xviii. 34: compare Luke xxiv. 8, and John ii. 21, 22). 

2 Mark xiii. 10; Luke xxiv. 17, 21. 

3 Preceding passages, especially Luke xvii. 24, 25; xviii. 31-34. 

4. Tall! aid of Babjdon, Baha, Bailira, 58, a, and the Arabic extract 
given by the Abbe Barges, in the Buildinda V G^avre des P^ltrinages 
en ierre Sainte, February 18G3, 

5. Ibn. Hischam, Sirot Errasoid, edit. Wiisdenfeld, 1012, and following 
pages. 

6. Ps. xvi. 10. The sense of the original is a little different. But the 
received versions thus translate the passage. 

1. 1. Thess. iv. 12, et seq. ; L Cor. xv., entire; Revelation xx.-xxii. 

8. Matt. xvi. 21, et seq.; Mark viii. 31, et seq. 

9. Josephus, Ant. XVIII., iii. 3. 

10. Carefully reperuse the four stories of the Gospels, and the passage 
1. Cor. XV. 4, 8. 

11. Matt, xxviii. 1 ; Mark xvi. 1 ; Luke xxiv. 1 ; John xx. 1. 

12. John XX. 2, seems to suppose even that Mary was not always alone. 

13. John XX. 1, et seq. ; and Mark xvi. 9, et seq. It must be observed 
that the Gospel of Mark has, in our printed versions of the New 
Testament, two conclusions : Mark xvi. 1-8 ; Mark xvi. 9-20, to 
sav nothing of two other conclusions, one of which has been hand- 
ed down to us in the manuscript L. of Paris, and the margin of the 
Philoxcni;m version {Xov. Test., edit, Griesbach, Schultz, 1, page 291 
note) ; the other by St. Jerome, Adv. Felag. 1. ii. (vol. iv., 2d part, col. 
250, edit. Mavtianay.) The conclusion in the sixteenth chapter, 
9th and following verses, are wanting in the Codex Sinditicus and in 
the most important Greek manuscripts. But, in any case, it is of 
great antiquity, and its harmony with the fourth Gospel is a striking 
coincidence. 

34. Matt, xxvii. 60; Mark xv. 46; Luke xxiii. 53. 

15. John xix, 41. 42. 

16. See ''Life of Jesus'' p. 38. 

17. The Gospel of the Hebrews contained, perhaps, some analogous cir- 
cumstance (vide St. Jerome, de Viris lUusirihus, 2). 

13 M. de Vogue, The Churches of the Holy Land, pp. 125, 126. The 
verb ,A,,„ (Matt, xxviii. 2 ; Mark xvi. 3, 4; Luke xsvi. 2) clearly 
proves that such was the situation of the tomb of Jesus. 

19. In all this, the recital of the fourth Gospel is vastly superior-. It is 
our principal guide. In Luke xxiv. 12, Peter alone goes to the 
tomb. In the conclusion of l\I:>rk given in manuscript L, and in tlie 
margin of the Philoxenian version (Griesbach, Ivc. citai.) occur r ,u 



THE APOSTLES. 



809 



TTc-ol -V T-o ). St. Paul (I. Cor. xv. 5) similarlj introducGS Peter only 
in this first vision. Further, Luke (ssiv. 24) supposes that many 
disciples vrent to the tomb, which observation probably applies to 
successive visits. It is possible that John has here yielded to the 
aftti-tliou -ht vfhich betrays him more than once in his G-ospel, of 
showng that he had, in the history of Jesus, a first-rate role, equal 
even to that of Peter. Perhaps, also, the repeated declarations of 
John, that he was an eye-witness of the fundamental facts of the 
Christian faith (Gospel i. 14; xxl. 21; 1. John i. 1-3; iv. 14), 
should be applied to this visit. 

20. Jo^n XX. 1, 10; compare Luke xxiv. 12, 34; L Cor. xv. 5, and the 
conclusion of ^lark in the manuscript L. 

21. Matt, xxviii. 9 ; in observing that Matt, xxviii. 9, 10, replies to John 
XX. 16. IT. 

22. John XX. 11-lt, in harmony with Mark xvi. 9, 10; compare the 
parallel, but far less satisfactory account of Matt, xxviii. 1-10; 
Luke xxiv. 1, 10. 

23. John XX. 18. 

24. Compare Mark xvi. 9 ; Luke viii. 2. 

25. Luke xxiv. 11. 

26. Ibid. xxiv. 24. 

27. Ibid. xxiv. 34; I. Cor. xv, 5; the conclusion of Mark in the manu- 
script L. The fragment of the Gospel of the Hebrews in St. Ignatius, 
Epi^st. ad Sinyni.. and in St. Jerome, de Viris III, 16, seem to place 
" the vision of Peter " in the evening, and to confound it with that 
of the assembled Apostles. But St. Paul expressly distinguishes be- 
tween the two visions. 

28. Luke xxiv. 23, 24. It results from these passages that the tidings 
were separately proclaimed. 

29. Mark xvi. 1-8; Matthew xxviii. 9, 10, contradict this. But this i3 
at variance with the synoptical system, where the women only see 
an angel. It seems that the first Gospel was intended to reconcile 
the synoptical system with that of the fourth, wherein one woman 
only saw Jesus. 

30. Matt, xxxviii. 2, et seq. ; Mark xvi. 5, et seq. ; Luke xxiv. 4, et 
seq., 23. This apparition of angels is even introduced into the 
story of the fourth Gospel (xx. 12, 13), which it completely deranges, 
being applied to Mary of Magdala. The author was unwilling to 
abandon this traditionary feature. 

31. Mark xvi. 8. 

^2. Luke xxiv. 4, 7 ; John xx. 12, 13. 

33. Matt, xviii. 1, et seq. The story of Matthew is that in which the 
circumstances have suffered the greatest exaggeration. The earth- 
quake and the feature of the guards are probably late additions. 

34. The six or seven accounts which we have of this scene on Sunday 
morning (Mark having two or three, and Paul having also his own, 



810 



THE APOSTLES. 



to say Dothing of the Gospel of the Hebrews), are in complete dis- 

agcreement with each other. 
35. Matt. xxvi. 31 ; Mark xiv. 27 ; John xvi. 32 ; Justin, Apol. i. 50 ; 

Dial cum Tryj^h., 53, 106. The tlieory of Justin is that immediately 

on the death of Jesus, there was a complete apostasy on the part of 

His disciples. 
S6 Matt, xxviii. 17 ; Mark xvi. 11 ; Luke xxiv. 11. 

37. Mark xvi. 9 ; Luke viii. 2. 

38. Consult, for example, Calmeil, De la Folie au Point de Vue Fathologique, 
Hiaiorique et Judiciaire. Paris, 1845. 2 vols, in 8vo. 

39. See the Pastoral Letters of Jurieu, 1st year, 7th letter ; Misson, The 

Sacred Theatre of Cevennes (London, 1707), j'p. 28, 34, 38, 102, 103, 
104, 107 ; Memoirs of Court in Sayons, Ilitiory of French Literature^ 
seventeenth century, i. p. 303. Balktin of the French Protectant HisiO' 
rical Society, 1862, p. 174. 

40. Matt, xiv 26; Mark vi. 49; Luke xxiv. 37; John iv. 19. 

41. Mark xvi. 12-13; Luke xxiv. 13-33. 

42. Compare Josephus, B. J., vii. vi. 6. Luke places this village at 60 
stadia, and Josephus at 30 stadia from Jerusalem. V.ifjK-ufr,,. 
which is found in certain manuscripts and editions of Josephus, is a 
correction made by some Christian. Consult the edition of G-. 
Pindorf. The most probable locality of Emmaus is Kullouv*'', a 
beautiful place at the bottom of a valley, on the road from Jerusalem 
to Jaffa. Consult Sepp. Jerusalem and the TLihj Land (1863), I. p. 56; 
Bourquenoud in the Studies of Religious History and Literature, b^^the 
Priests of the Society of Jesus, 1S63, No. 9 ; and for the exact dis- 
tances, H. Zschokke. The Lhnmaus of the New Testament (Schaflbuse, 
1865). 

43. Mark xvi. 14; Luke xxiv. 33, et seq. : John xx. 19, et seq. : Gospel 
of the Hebrews in S'. Ignatius, Eiiitt ad Svnjrn., 3, and in St. Jerome, 
Be V'iris Til. 16; L Cor. xv. 5; Justin, Dial cum Tnjph. 106. 

44. Luke xxiv. 34 

45. In an island opposite Rotterdam, where the people have remained 
attached to the most austere Calvinism, the peasants are persuaded 
that Jesus comes to their death-beds to assure the elect of their 
justification ; many, in fact, see Him 

1(>. In order to conceive the possibility of similar illusions, it is sufficient 
to remember the scenes of our own days, when a number of i)ersona 
assembled together unanimously acknowledged that they heard unreal 
voices, and that in perfectly good faith. The expectation, the_ effort 
of the imagination, the desire to believe, sometimes compliances 
accorded with perfect innocence, explain such of the phenomena as 
are not produced by direct fraud. These compliances proceed, in 
general, from persons who are convinced, and who, actuated by a 
kindly feeling, are unwilling that the party should break up unplea- 
eautly, and are desirous of relieving the masters of the house from 
^unbarrassment. When a person believes in a miracle, he always 



THE APOSTLES. 



811 



unwillin.Trly assists in its propagation. Doubt and deni.il are impos 
Bible in this sort of assemblage. You would only cause paiu td 
tliosG who do believe, and to those whom you have invited. And 
thus it is that these experiences which succeed so well before small 
committees, are usually failures before a paying public, and always 
so when handled by scientilic commissions. 

47. .John XX. 22, 23, echoed by Luke xxiv. 4, 9. 

48. Matt, xxviii. 17; Mark xvi. 14; Luke xxiv. 39, 40. 

49. John XX. 24, 29; compare Mark xvi. 14; and the conclusion of 
Mark preserved by St. Jerome, Ado. Pdaj. ii. (v. above at page). 

50. John XX. 29. 

51. It IS very remarkable indeed that John, under whose name the 
above dictum has been transmitted, had no particular vision for 
himself alone. Cf. L Cor. xv. 5, 8. 

52. John XX, 26. The passage xxi. 14 supposes it is true that there 
were only two apparitions at .Jerusalem before the assembled dis- 
ciples. But the p issages xx. 30, and xxi. 25, give us far more lati- 
tude. Compare Acts 1, 3. 

63. Luke xxiv. 41, 43 ; Gospel of the Hebrews, in St. Jerome, De Vtris 
IllusiribUrS, 2 ; conclusion of Mark, in St. Jerome, Ado. Pelag., ii. 



CHAPTER IL 

1. Matt, xxviii. 7 ; Mark xvi. 7. 

2. Matt, xxviii. 10. 

3. Ibid. xxvi. 32. 

4. Matt, xxviii. 16; John xxi.; Luke xxiv. 49, 50, 52, and the Acts i. 
3. 4, are here in flagrant contradiction to Mark xvi. '-8, and 
Matthew. The second conclusion of Mark (xvi. 9, et seq.), and even 
of the two others which are not a part of the received text, 
app3ir3l to b3 iii3'ul>l in t'i3 systo n of Luke. But this cannot 
avail in opposition to the harmony of a portion of the synoptical 
tradition witli the fourth Grospel, and even indirectly with Paul (I. 
Cor. XV. 5-8), on this point. 

5. Matt, xxviii. 16. 

G. Ibid, xxviii. 7 ; Mark xvi. 7. 

7. Conclusion of Mark, in St. Jerome, Adv. Pelag. ii. 

8. Matt, xxviii. 16. 

9. John xxi. 2, et seq. 

10. The author of the Acf,s i. 14, makes them remain at Jerusalem until 
the xiscension. But this agrees with his systematic detern ination 
(Luke xxiv. 49 ; Acts i. 4), not to allow of a journey into Galilee 
after the resurrection (a theory contradicted by Matthew and by 
John). To be consistent in this theory he is coiupellod to place the 



812 



THE APOSTLES. 



Ascensioi at Bethany, in which he iKS contradicted by all the othei 
traditions. 

11. I. Cor. XV. 5, et seq. 

12. Johuxxxi. 1, et seq. This chapter has been added to the already 
completed Gospel, as a postscript. But it is from the same pen aa 
the rest. 

13. John zxi. 9-14; compare Luke xxiv. 41-43. John combines in 
one the two scenes of the fishing and the meal. But Luke arranges 
the matter differently. At all events, if we consider witii attention 
the verses of John xxi. 14, 15, we shall come to the conclusion 
that these harmonies of John are somewhat artificial. Hallucina- 
tions, at the moment of tlieir conception, are always isolated. It ia 
later that consistent anecdotes are formed out of them. This habit 
of coupling together a3 consecutive events facts which are separated 
by months and weeks, is scon, in a very striking manner, by com- 
paring together two passa'-^es of the same writer, Luke, Gospel, xxi v. 
end, and Acts i. at the beginning. According to the former passage, 
Jesus should have ascended into heaven on the same day as the 
resurrection; whilst, according to the latter, there was an interval 
of forty days. Again, if we rigorously interpret Mark xvi. 9-20, 
the Ascension must have taken place on the evening of the resurrec- 
tion. Nothing more fully proves than the contradiction of Luke in 
these two passages, how Uttle the editors of the evangelical writings 
observed consistency in their stories. 

14. John xxi. 15, et seq. 

15. Ibid. xxi. 18, et seq. 
IG. L Cor. XV. 6. 

17. The Transfiguration. 

18. Matt, xxviii. 16-20; I, Cor. xv. 6. Compare Mark xvi. 15, et seq.* 
Luke xxiv. 44, et seq. 

19. I. Cor. XV. 6. 

20. John affixes no limit to the resuscitated life of Jesus. He appears 
to suppose it somewhat protracted. According to Matthew, it could 
only have lasted during the time which was necessary to complete 
the journey to Galilee and to rendezvous at the mountain pointed 
out by Jesus. According to the first incomplete conclusion of Mark 
(xvi. 1-8), the incidents would seem to have transpired as found 
in Mattlie-w. According to the second conclusion (xvi. 9, 20), 
according to others; and, according to the Gospel of Luke, 
the disentombed life would appear to liave lasted only one 
day. Paul (1. Cor. xv. 5-S), agreeing with the fourth Gospel, pro- 
longs it for two years, since he gives his vision, which occurred 
five or six years at least after the death of Jesus, as the last of the 
apparitions. The circumstance of "five hundred brethren" con- 
duces to the same conclusion ; for it does not appear that on the 
morning after the death of Jesus, the group of his friends was com- 
pact enough to furnish such a gathering (Ar.ts i. 15). Many of 
the Gnostic sects, especially the Valentinians and the Sethiaus, esti 



THE APOSTLES. 



813 



mated the coutinuance of tlie apparitions at eighteen months, and 
even founded mystic theories on that notion (Ireneeus Adv. hcer., i. 
iii. 2 ; xxx. 14). The author of the Acts alone (i. 3) fixes the 
duration of the disentombed hfe of Jesus at fortv dajs. Bui this is 
very poor authority ; above all, if we remark that it is connected 
with an erroneous system (Luke xxiv. 49, 50, 52; Acts i. 4, 12), 
according to vrhich the whole disentombed life of Jesus would have 
been passed at Jerusalem or in its vicinity. The number forty is 
symbohc (the people spend forty years in the desert ; Closes, forty 
days on ilount Sinai ; Elijah and Jesus fast forty days, &c.). As 
to the formula of the narrative adopted by the author of the last 
twelve verses of the second G-ospel, and by the author of the third 
G-ospeL a formula according to which the events are confined to one 
day, the authority of Paul the most ancient and the strongest of 
all, corroborating tbat of the fourth G-ospeL which affords the 
most conn3Cted and authentic record of this portion of the evan- 
gelic history, appears to us to furnish a conclusive argument. 

21. Luke xxiv. 34. 

22. John XX. 19, 26. 

23. Matt, xxviii. 9; Luke xxiv. 37, etseq. ; Johnxx. 27, et seq. ; G-ospel 
of the Hebrews, in St. Ignatitis, the Epistle to the Sm.rrniotes 3, and 
in St. Jerome, i)e Viris lUusiribics, 16. 

24 John vL 64. 

25. Matt, xxviii. 11-15; Justin. Dial cum Tryph. 17, 103. 

26. Matt xxviu G2-66 ; xxviii. 4, 11-15. 

27. Ibid, xxviii. 9, et seq. 

28. The Jews are enraged Matt, xxvii. 63, when they hear that Jesus 
had predicted his resurrection. But even the disciples of Jesus 
had no precise ideas in this respect. 

29. A vague idea of this sort may be found in Matthew xxvi. 32 ; 
xxviiL 7, 10; Mark xiv. 28; xvi'. 7. 

30. This is plainly seen in the miracles of Salette and Sourdes. One of 
the most usual ways in which a miraculous legend is invented is the 
following. A person of holy life pretends to heal diseases. A sick per- 
son is brought to him or her. and in consequence of the excitement 
finds himself relieved. Xext day it is bruited abroad in a circle of 
ten miles that there has been a miracle. The sick person dies five 
or six days afterwards ; no one mentions the fact ; so that at the 
hour of the burial of the deceased, people at a distance of forty miles 
are relating with admiration his wondrous cure. The word loaned 
to the Grecian philosophy before the tx votos of Samothrace (Diog, 
Laert. A"I. ii. 59,) is also perfectly appropriate. 

A phenomenon of this kind, and one of the most striking, takes place 
annually at Jerusalem. The orthodox Greeks pretend that the fire 
which is spontaneously lighted at the holy sepulchre on the Saturday 
of the holy week preceding iheir Easter, takes away the sins of those 
whose faces it touches without burning them. Millions of pilgrims 



314 



THE APOSTLES. 



have tried it and know full well that this fire does burn (the coi tor- 
tious which they make, joined to the smell, are a sufficient nroof). 
Nevertheless, no one has ever been found to contradict the belief of 
the orthodox Church. This would be to avow that they were deh- 
cient in faith, that they were unworthy of the miracle, and to 
acknowledge, oh, heavens I that the Latins were the true Church ; 
for this miracle is considered by the Greeks as the most convincing 
proof that theirs is the only good church. 

32. The affair of Salette before the civil tribunal of Grenoble (decree of 
2d May, 1855), and before the court of Grenoble (decree of 6th May, 
1857), pleadings of MM. Jules Favre and Bethmont, &c., collected 
by J. Sabbatier (Grenoble VeUot. 1857.) 

33. John XX. 15. Could it include a glimmering of this? 

34. See above. 

35. John expressly says so, xix. 41, 42. 

36. John XX, 6, 7. 

37. One cannot help thinking of Mary of Bethany, who in fact is not 
represented as taking any part in the event of the Sunday morning. 
See ''■Life of Jesus''' p. 341, et seq. ; 359, et seq. 

38. Celsus has already dehvered some excellent critical observationa 
OL this subject (in Origen). Contra Celsum, ii. 55. 

39. Mark xvi. 9 ; Luke viii. 2. 



CHAPTER in. 

1. Luke xxiv, 47. 

2. Respecting the name of "Galileans " given to the Christians, see be- 
low. 

3. Matthew is exclusively Galilean; Luke and the second Mark, xvL 
9-22, are exclusively Jerusalemitish. John unites the two traditions. 
Paul (i. Cor. xv. 5-8) also admits the occurrence of visions at widely 
separated places. It is possible that the vision of " the five hundred 
brethren " of Paul, which we have conjecturally identified with that 
"of the mountain of Galilee" of Matthew, was a Jerusalemite 
vision. 

4. L Cor. XV 7. One cannot explain the silence of the four canonical 

Evangelists respecting this vision in any other way than by refer- 
ring it to an epoch placed on this side of the scheme of their recital. 
The chronological order of the visions, on which St. Paul insists with 
so much precision, leads to the same result. 

5. Gospel of the Hebrews, cited by St. Jerome Be Viris Illustribus, 2. 
Compare Luke xxiv. 41-43. 

6. Gospel of the Hebrews, cited above. 

7. John vii. 5. 



THE APOSTLES. 



315 



8. Could there be an allusion to this abrupt chang-e in G-al. ii. 6 ? 

9. Acts i. 14, weak authority indeed. One already perceives in Luke 
a tendency to magnify the part of Mary. Luke, chap. i. and ii. 

10. John xix. 25, 27. 

11. The tradition respecting his sojourn at Ephesus is modern and 
valueless. See Epiphanius. Adv. heret. Lsxviii. 11. 

12. See Life of Jesus. 

13. Grospel of the Hebrews, passage cited above. 

14. Acts viii. 1; Galat. i 17-19; ii. 1, et seq. 

15. Luke xxiv. 49. Acts i. 4. 

16. This idea indeed is not developed until we come to the fourth 
Gospel (chap, xiv., xv., xvi.). But it is indicated in Matt. iii. 11. 
Mark i. 8 ; Luke iii. 16; xii. 11, 12, xxiv. 49. 

17. John XX. 22-23. 

18. Ibid. xvi. 7. 

19. Luke xxiv. 49 ; Acts i. 4, et seq. 

20. Acts I 5-8. 

21. L Cor XV. 7 ; Luke xxiv. 50, et seq. Acts i. 2, et seq. Certainly it 
might with propriety be admitted that the vision of Bethany related 
by Luke was parallel to the vision of the mountain in Matthew 
xxviii. 16, et seq. transposing the place where it occurred. And yet 
this vision of Matthew is not followed by the Ascension. In the 
second conclusion of Mark, the vision with the iinal instructions, 
followed by the Ascension, takes place at Jerusalem. Lastly Paul 
relates the vision " to all the Apostles," as distinct from that seen 
by "the five hundred brethren." 

22. Other traditions referred the conferring of tliis power to anterior 
visions. (John xx. 23.) 

23. Luke xxiv. 23 ; Acts xxv. 19. 
24 Acts I 11. 

25. 1 Cor. XV. 8. 

26. Matt, xxviii. 20. 

27. John iii. 13; vi. 62: xvi. 7; xx. 77; Ephes. iv. 10; I. Peter iii. 22. 
Neither Matthew nor John gives the recital of the Ascension. Paul 
(1 Cor. XV. 7-8) excludes even the very idea, 

28. Mark xvi. 19 ; Luke xxiv. 50-52. Acts 2-12. Apol. i. 50. Asceri' 
sion of Isaiah, Ethiopic version, xi. 22; Latin version (Venice, 1522), 
sub tin. 

29. Compare the account of the Transfiguration. 

30. Jos Aniiq. iv., viii. 58. 

31. II. Kings, ii. 11, et seq. 

32. Luke, last chapter of the Gospel, and the first chapter of the Acts. 

33. Luke xxiii 52. 



816 



THE APOSTLES. 



CHAPTER IV. 

1. Matt, sviii. 20. 

2. Acfs i, 15. The greater part of tliese "five hundred brethren" 
doubtless remained in Galilee. That which is told in Acis ii. 41, is 
surely an exaggeration, or at least an anticipation. 

3. Luke xxiv. 53; Acts ii. 46; compare Luke ii 37; Hegesippus in 
Eusebius, Iltst. Eccles. ii. 23. 

4. Deuteron. x. 18 ; L Tim. vi. 8. 

5. Head the Wars of iJie Jews of Josephus. 

6. John XX. 22. 

IT. L Kings xix. 11-12. 

8. This work appears to have been written at the commencement of tha 
second century of our era. 

9. The Ascension of Isaiah, vi. 6, et seq. (Ethiopic version.) 

10. Matt, iii. 11; Mark i. 8; Luke iii. 16; Acis L 5; xi. 16; xix. 14; 
I. John 6, et seq. 

11. Compare Misson, TJie Sacred TJieaire of Cevennes (London, 1707), 
p. 103. 

12. Bevue des Deux Mondes, Sept. 1853, p. 96, et seq. 

13. Jules Remy, Journey to the Mormon Territory (Paris, 1860), Books IL 
and III. ; for example, Vol. I., p. 259-260 ; Vol. IL 470, et seq. 

14. Astie, The Religious Revival of the United States (Lausanne, 1859). 

15. Acis ii. 1-3 ; Justin Apol. i. 50. 

16. The expression " tongue of fire " means in Hebrew, simply, a flame 
(Isaiah v. 24). Compare Virgil's ^neid II. 682, 84. 

17. Jamblicus (De Myst., sec. iii. cap. 6) exposes aU this theory of the 
luminous descents of the Spirit 

18. Compare Talmud of Babylon, Chagiga, 14 b. ; Midraschim, Schir 
hasschirin Rabba^ fol. 40 b. ; Ruth Rabba, fol. 42 a. ; Kofieleth Rabba, 
87 a. 

19. Matt. iii. 11; Luke iii. 16. 

20. Exodus iv. 10 ; compare Jeremiah i. 6. 

21. Isaiah vi. 5, et seq. Compare Jeremiah i. 9. 

22. Luke xi. 12; John xiv. 26. 

23. AMs ii. 5, et seq. This is the most probable sense of the narrative, 
although it may moan that each of the dialects was spoken sepa- 
rately by each of the preachers. 

24. Acts ii. 4. Compare I. Cor. xii. 10, 28 ; xiv. 21, 22. For analogous 
imaginations, see Calmeil, De la Folic, i. p. 9, 262; ii. p. 357, et seq. 

25. Talmud of Jerusalem, Sola, 21 b. 

26. Testimony of the Twelve Patriarchs, Judah, 25. 

27. Acts ii. 4; x. 34, et seq. ; vi. 15 ; xix. 6; I. Cor. xii., xiv. 



THE APOSTLES. 



817 



28 Mark xvi. 17. It must be remembered that in the ancient Hebrew, 
as iu all the other ancient languages (see my Origin of Language^ p. 
177, et seq.), the words meaning "stranger," "strange language," 
were derived from the words which signified "to stammer," "to 
sob," an unknown dialect always appearing to a simple people, as it 
were, an indistinct stammering. See Isaiah xxviii. 11; xxxiii. 19; 
I. Cor. xiv. 21. 

29 I. Cor. viii. 1, remembering what precedes. 

30. I. Cor. xii 28, 30 ; xiv. 2, et seq. 

31. I. Sam. xixi 23, et seq. 

32. Plutarch, Of the Pythian Oracles, 24. Compare the prediction of Cas- 
sandra in the Agamemnon of iEschylus. 

33. I. Cor. xii. 3; xvi. 22; Rom. viii 15. 

34. Rom. viii. 23, 26, 27. 

35. I. Cor. vii. 1 ; xiv. 7, et seq. 

36. Rom. viii. 26, 27. 

37. I. Cor. xiv. 13, 14, 27, et seq. 

38 Jurien, Pastoral Letters^ 3d year, 3d letter; Misson, The Sacred 
Theaire of Cevennes, p. 10, 14, 15, 18, 19, 22, 31, 32, 36, 37, 65, 66, 
68. 70, 94, 104, 109, 126, 140; Bruey's History of Fa iailcism (Mont- 
pelier, 1709). I., pages 145, et seq.; Flechier, Select Letters (Lyon, 
1734), I., p. 353, et seq. 

39. Karl Hase, History of the Church, §§ 439 and 458, 5: the Protestant 
Journal, Hope, 1st April, ] 847. 

40. M. Ilohl, Bruhstucke au-s dem Lehen und den Schrlften; Edward 
Irving's (Saint-Gall, 2839), p. 145, 149, et seq. ; Karl Hase, History 
of the Clmrch. §^ 458. 4. For the Mormons, see Remy. Voyage L, p. 
176-177, note ; 259, 260 ; II., p. 55, et seq. For the Convulsiouaries 
of St. Medard, see, above all, Carre de Montgeron, T/ie Truth about 
MiracUs, &c. (Paris, 1737, 1744), II., p. 18, 19, 49, 54, 55, 63, 64, 80, &c. 

41. Acts ii. 13, 15. 

42. Mark iii. 21, et seq.; John x. 20, et seq.; xiL 27, et seq. 

43. Acts xix. 6 ; I. Cor. xiv. 3, et seq. 

44. Acts X. 46; L Cor. xiv. 15, 16, 26. 

45. Col. iii. 16; Eph. v. 49 {Sj^Xiuh vnvoi Jai TrveviuariKiu), See the 
former chapters of the Gospel of Luke. Compare iu particular, 
Luke i. 46, with Acts x. 46. 

46. I. Cor. xiv. 15 ; Col. iii. 16 ; Eph. v. 19. 

47. Jeremiah i. 6. 

48. Mark xvi. 17. 

49. I. Cor. xiv. 22. nPEvunm the Epistles of S. Paul, often approaches 
the sense of SwdiUQ. The spiritual phenomena are regarded a3 
Sufai^eii^ that is to say, miracles. 

60. Irenaeus, Adv. hceret. Y., vi. 1 ; TertuUian, Adv. Marciom, v. 8. Con- 
siii. Apost. viii. 1. 



818 



THE APOSTLES. 



51, Luke ii. 37; IL Oor. vi. 5; xi. 27. 

52. IL Cor. vii. 10. 

63. Acts viii. 26, el seq. ; x. entire ; xvi. 6, 7, 9, et scq. Compare Luke u 
27, &c. 

54. Acts XX. 19, 31. Rom. viii. 23, 26. 



CHAPTER Y. 

1. Acts ii. 42-47; iv. 32, 37; v. 1, 11; vi. 1, et seq. 

2. Ibid. ii. 44, 46, 47. 

3. Ibid. ii. 46. 

4. No literary production has ever so often repeated the word "joy* 
as the New Testament. See 1. Thess. i. 6; v. 16; Rom. xiv. 17; 
XV. 13; Galat. v. 22; Philip i. 25; iii. 1; iv. 4; L John i. 4, &c. 

5. Acts xii. 12. 

6. See Life of Jesus, p. xxxix., et seq. 

7. EUonim means " poor folk." See Life of Jesus, p. 182, 183. 

8. To recall the year 1000. All instruments in writing commencing 
with : The evening of the world being at hand or similar expressions, 
are in donations to the monasteries. 

9. Hodgson, in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. V., p. 
33, et seq. ; Eugene Burnouf, Introduction to the History of Indian 
Buddhism, i. p. 278, et seq. 

10. Lucian, Death of Peregrinu^s, 13. 

11. Papyrus at Turin, London, and Paris, collected by Brunet de Presle, 
Mem. respecting the Serapeum of Memphis (Paris, 1852); Eggee, Mem. 
of Ancient History and Philology, p. 151, et f=eq., and in the Notices 
and Extracts, vol. xviii., 2d part, p. 264-359. Observe that the 
Christian-hermit life was first commenced in Egypt. 

12. Acts xi. 29, 30; xxiv. 17; Galat. ii. 10; Rom. xv. 26, et seq.; L 
Cor. xvi. 1-4 ; II. Cor. viii. and ix. 

13. Acts V. 1-11. 

14. Ibid. ii. 46; v. 12. . 

15. Ibid. iii. 1. 

16. James, for -nstance, was all his life a pure Jew. 

17. Acts ii. 47; iv. 33; v. 13, 26. 

18. Acts ii. 46. 

19. L Cor. X. 16; Justin, Apol. i. 65-67. 

20. Sni/^fiTn',!, Joseph, Antiq. XIV. x. 8, 12. 

21. Luke xxii. 19; I. Cor. xi. 24, et seq.; Justin, passage already cited. 

22. In the year 57, the institution called the Eucharist already abounded 
with abuses (I. Cor. xi. 17, et seq.), and was, in consequence, ancient 



THE APOSTLES. 



319 



23. Acts xx. T ; Pliny, Epist. x. 97. Justin, Apol. i. 6t. 

24. Acts XX. 1, 11. 

25. Pliny, Epist. x. 91. 

26. John XX. 26, does not satisfactorily prove the contrarf. The Ebiou 
ites always observed the Sabbath. St. Jerome, in Matt, xii., com 
mencement. 

27. Acts i. 15-26. 

28. See Life of Jesus, p. 437, et seq. 

29 Compare Eusobius, Hist. Eccl. iii. 39 (according to Papias). 

30. Justin, Apol. i. 39, 50. 

31. Pseudo-Abdias, etc. 

32. Compare 1. Cor. xv. 10, with Romans xv. 19. 

33. Gal. i. 17, 19. 

34. Acts vi. 4. 

35. Compare Matt. x. 2-4; Mark iii. 16-19; Luke vi. 14-16; Acts i. 13. 

36. Acts i. 14; Gal. i. 19; I. Cor. ix. 5. 

37. Gal. ii. 9. 

38. See Life of Jesus, p. 307. 

39. See Life of Jesus, p. 150. Compare Papias in Eusebius, Hist Eccl.., 
iii. 39; Polycrates, Ibid. v. 24; Clement of Alexandria, Strom, iii. 
6; vii. 11. 

40. For instance sti -< .tt-jc, perhf.ps K\np,c. See "Wescher, in the 
Archceological Bevievj, April, 1866. 

41. Acts i. 26. See below, p. 

42. Acts xiii. 1, et seq. ; Clement of Alexandria, in Eusebius, Hist. Eccl, 
iii. 23. 

43. Acts V. 1-11. 

44. I. Cor. V. 1, et seq. 

45. I. Tim. i. 20. 

46. Genesis xvii. 14, and numerous other passages in the Mosaic code ; 
Mischna, Kerithoiiih, i. 1 ; Talmud of Babylon, Moed Katou, 28, sl. 
Compare Tertullian, De Animd, 57. 

47. Consult the Hebrew and Rabbmical dictionaries, at the word fil^i' 
Compare the word to exterminate. 

48. Mischna, Sanhedrim ix. 6; John xvi. 2; Joseph. B. J., vii, viii., 1; 
in. Maccab. (apocr.), vii. 8, 12-13. 

49. Luke vi. 15; Acts i. 13. Compare Matt. x. 4; Mark iii. 18. 

50. Acts V. 1-11. Compare Acts xiii. 9-11. 

51. Acts i. 15; ii. 14, 37; v. 3, 29; Gal. i. 18; ii. 8. 

52. Acts iii. 1, et seq.; viii. 14; Gal ii. 9. Compare John xx 2, et seq.; 
xxi. 20, et seq. 

53. According to Matthew xxviii. 1, etseq., the keepers would have been 



320 



THE APOSTLES. 



v^itnesses to the desceBt of the angel who removed the stot>e. This 
very embarrassed account would also lead us to conclude that the 
women were witnesses of the same act, but it does not expressly 
say so. Anyhow, whatever the keepers and the women should 
have seen, according to the same narrative, would not be Jesus re- 
suscitated, but the angel. Such a story, isolated and inconsistent 
f as it is, is evidently the most modern of all. 

54 Luke xxiv. 48; Acts i. 22: ii. 32- ill 15; iv. 33; v. 32; x. 41; 
xiii. 30, 31. 

55 See above p. 1, note L 

56. See Life ofJesus,^' p. 215, et seq. 

57. L Cor. xvi. 22. These two words are Syro-Chaldaic, 

58. Matt. X, 23. 

59. Acts ii. 33, et seq. : x. 42. 

60. Luke xxiv. 19. 

61. Acts ii. 22. 

62. The diseases were generally considered to be the work of the devil. 

63. Acts X. 38. 

64. Acts il 36; viii. 37; ix. 22; xvii. 31, &c. 

65. Acts ii. 44, et seq. ; iv. 8, et seq. ; 25, et seq. ; vii. 14, et seq. ; v. 43 and 
the Epistle attributed to St. Barnabas, entire. 

66. James i. 26-27. 

67. Later it was called yftroDpyEr.-. Acts xiii. 2. 

68. Heb. V. 6; vi. 20; viii. 4; x. 11. 

69. Revel i. 6 ; v. 10 ; xx. 6. 

70. Acts xiii. 2 ; Luke ii. 37. 

71. Rom. vi. 4, et seq. 

72. Acts viii. 12, 16 ; x. 48. 

73. Acts viii. 16 ; x. 47. 

74. Matt. ix. 18; xix. 13, 15; Mark v. 23; vi. 5; vii. 32; viii. 23-25, 
X. 16; Luke iv. 40; viii. 13. 

75. ActsYi. 6; viii. 17, 19; ix. 12, 17; xiii. 3; xiv. 6; xxviii. 8; 1 Tim, 
iv. 14; V. 22; ii. Tim. i. 6; Heb. vi. 2; James v. 13. 

76. Matt. in. 11; Mark 1. 8; Luke iii. 16; John i. 26; Acts i. 5; xi. 16; 

xix. 4. 

77. Matt, xxviii. 19. 

78. See the Gholaste, Sabeau manuscripts of the Imperial Bible, Nos. 8, 
10, 11, 13. 

79. Yendidad-Sade viii. 296, et seq. ; ix. 1-145 ; xvi. 18, 19. Spiegel, 
Avesta, ii. p. 83, et seq. 

80. I. Cor. xii. 9, 28, 30. 

81. Matt. ix. 2 ; Mark ii. 5 ; - John v. 14 ; ix. 2 ; James v. 1 5 ; Misclina 

JSchabbath, ii. 6 ; Talm. of Bab. Nedarim, fol 41 a. 



THE .APOSTLES. 



82. Matt. ix. 33; xii. 22; Mark ix. 16, 21; Liike xi. 14; Acts six. 12; 

TertuUian Ajjol. xxii. ; adv. Mark iv. 8. 
SB^Acis V. 16; xix. 12-16. 

84. James v. 14r-15. Mark vi. 13. 

85. Luke x. 34. 

86. Mark xvi. 18 ; AcLs xxviii. 8. 

87. 1. Tiiess. iy. 13, et seq. ; I. Cor, xv. 12, et seq. 

88. Phil. i. 33, seems to be a shade duTerent. But compare I. Thoss. iv. 

14-17. See, above all, ReveL xx. 4-6. 

89. Paul in previouslj cited passages, and Phil, iii. 11 ; Revel, xx. en- 
tire; Papias, in Eusebius, Hist Eccl. iii, 39, Sometimes one sees a 
diiTerent belief springing up, above ah in Luke (Grospel xvi. 22, et 
seq. ; xxiii, 43, 4G). But this is a weak authority on a point of 
Jewish theology. The Essenians had already adopted the Greek 
dogma of the immortality of the soul. 

90. Compare Acts xxiv. 15 with L Thess. iv, 13, et seq, : Phil, iii. 11. 
Compare llevel, xx, 5, See Leblant, Christian IiiscripUons in Gaul iu 
p, 81, et seq, 

91. Acts xi, 27, et seq. ; xiii, 1 ; xv, 32 ; xxi. 9, 10, et seq. ; I. Cor. xii. 28, et 
seq,; xiv. 29-37; Eph, iiL 5; iv, 11; Revel, i, 3; xvi. 6; xviii. 20, 
24; xxii, 9. 

92. Luke i. 46, et seq. ; 68. et seq ; ii. 29, et seq. 

93. Ads xvi. 25; L Cor. xiv. 15; Col, in. IG; Eph, v. 19; James v. 13. 
0-4. The identity of this chant in religious communities which have been 

separated from the earliest ages proves that it is of great antiquity. 

95, Num. V, 2; Dent, xxvii, 15, et seq,; Ps. 106, 48; I. Cliron, xvi, 36; 
Nehem. v, 13, viii. 6. 

96, L Cor. xiv. 16: Justm. Apol. i. 65, 67. 

97, L Cor. xiv. 7, 8, does not prove it. The use of the verb li lAAr,) does 
not any more prove it. This verb originally implied the use of an 
instrument with strings, but in time it became synonymous Ymh 
" to chant the Psalms," 

98, Col. iii. 16 ; Eph. v, 19. 

99, See Du Cange, at the word Lollardi (edit. Didot), Compare the 
Cantilenes of the Cevenols, Proplietic vjarniiigs of Eiijaii Marion 
(London, 1707), p, 10, 12, 14, &c, 

100, James v, 12, 

101, Matt, xvi. 28; xxiv. 34; Mark viii. 39; xiii, 30; Luke ix. 27 
xxi. 32. 



14* 



822 



THE APOSI^LES. 



CHAPTER VL 

1. Acts, first chapters. 

2. Acts V. 4?. 

3. See for example, Acts ii. 34, &c., and in general all the first chapters 

4. L Cor. i. 22; ii. 4-5; IL. Cor. xii. 12; I. Thess. i. 5; II. Thess. ii. 9 
Gal. iii. 5; Rom, xv. 18-19. 

5. Rom. XV. 19; II. Cor. xii. 12; I. Thess. i. 5. 

6 Acis V. 12-16. The Acts are full of miracles. That of Eutychus 
{Ads XX. 7-12) is surely related by ocular testimony. The sama 
of Acis xxviii. Comp. Papias in Euseb. H. E. iii. 39. 

1. Jewish and Christian exorcism were regarded as the most eflScacioua 
even for the heathen. Damascius, Vie d'Isidore, 56. 

8. Acts V. 15. 

9. I. Cor. xii. 9, &c., 28, &c. ; Constit. apost. viii. 1. 

10. Irenpeus. Adv. hcer. ii. xxxii. 4; v. vi. 1 ; Tertull. Apol. 23-43; Ad 
Scapulam, 2 ; Be Corona, II; De Spectaculis, 24; JDeAnima, 57; Constit 
Apost. chapter noted, which appeared drawn from the work of St. 
Hippolytus upon the Chrisinata. 

11. Miracles are of daily occurrence among the Mormons. Jules Remy, 
A Visit to the Mormons, 1. p. 140, 192, 259-200 ; II. 53, &c. 

12. Acts iv. 36-37. Cf. ibid. xv. 32. 

13. Ibid. xiii. 1. 

14. Ibid. xxi. 16. 

15. Jos. Ant. XIII. X. 4; XVII. xii. I, 2; Philo, Leg. ad Caium, § 36. 

16. ITonce for Barnabas his name of Ilallevi and of Col. iv. 10-11. Mna- 
son appears to be the translation of some Hebrew name from the 
root zacar, as Zacharius. 

17 Col. iv. 10-11. 

18. Acis xii. 12. 

19. I. Petri, v. 13. Acis xii. 12; Papias in Euseb. H. E. iii. 39. 

20. Acts xii 12-14. All this chapter, where the affairs of Peter are so 
minutely related, appears edited by John-Mark. 

21. As the name of Marcus was not co nmoii at that time among the 
Jews, there is no reason for referring to different individuals the 
passages relating to a personage of that name. 

22. Comp. Acts viii. 2, with Acts ii. 5. 

23. Acts. vi. 5, 

24. Ibid. 

25. Comp. Acis xxi. 8-9 with Papias m Euseb. Hist. Eccl. iii. 39. 

26. Rom. xvi. 7. It is doubtful whether nnna or ^vuia, Junianus. 

27. Paul calls them his avyycvrii ; but it is difficult to say whether thai 
signifies that these were Jews, of the triljc of iionjamin or of Tarsus, 
or really relations of Paul. The first sense is the most probable, 



THE APOSTLES. 



323 



Comp. Eom. ix. 3; xl 14. In any event, this word implies that 
thej were Jews. 

28. Acf^ vi. 1-5; 11. Cor. xi. 22; Phil. iii. 5. 

29. AcLs ii. 9-11 ; vi. 9. 

30. The Talmud of Jerusalem, Msgilla, fol. d, mentions four hundrec 
and twenty-five synagogues. Comp. Midrascli Eka^ 52 b, 7U d. 
Such a number would appear by no means improbable to those who 
have seen the little fa'.uily mosques which are found in every 
Mahommedan village. But the Talmudic information about Jerusa- 
lem is of mediocre authority. 

31 Ads vi. 1. 

32. The Epistle of St. James was written in moderately pure Greek. It 
is true that the authenticity of this Epistle is not certain. 

33. The savants wrote in ancient Hebrew, somewhat altered. 

34. Jos. Ant. last paragraph. 

35. This proves the transcriptions of Greek into Syriac. I liave de- 
veloped hero in my Eclair ciasements sir. s des Langues Semiiiques sur 
quelque points de la Prononciatian Grecque. (Paris, 1849.) The lan- 
guage of the Greek inscriptions of Syria ic very bad. 

36 Jos. Ant. loc. cit. 
37. Sat. I. V. 105. 



CHAPTER VII. 

1. See the accounts collected and translated by Eugene Burnouf. In- 
troduction to the llistury of Indian Buddhism, i. p. 137, and following 
pages, and particularly pp. 198, 199. 

2 See Life of Jesus. 

3. Acts ii. 45; iv. 34, 37; v. 1. 

4. Acts V. 1, and following verses. 

5. Ibid. ii. 45; iv. 35. 

6. Ibid. vi. 1, &c. 

7. See chapter vi. 

8. Acts xxi. 8. 

9. Phil. i. 1 ; I. Timothy iii. 8, and following. 

10. Eomans xvi. 1, 12 ; I. Tim. iii. 11 ; v. 9, and following. Pliny Epist 
X. 97. The Epistles to Timothy are most probably not from the peq 
of Saint Paul ; but are in any event of very ancient date. 

11. Rom. xvi. 1; I. Cor. ix. 5. Philemon 2. 

12. I. Tim. V. 9, and following. 
31. Constit. A post. vi. 17. 



824 



THE APOSTLES. 



14. Sap. i. 10; Eccl. xxxvii. 11; Matthew xxiii. 14; Mark xiL 40 j 
Luke XX. 47 ; James 27. 

15. Mischna, Soia, iii. 4. 

16. Talmud of Babylon, Sota 22 a; Comp. L Tim. v. 13. 
37. Acts vi. 1. 

18. Ibid, xii, 12. 

] 9. I. Tim. V. 9, and following. Compare Acts ix. 39, 41. 

20. L Tim. v. 3, and following. 

21. Ecclesiastes vii. 27 ; Ecclesiasticus vii. 26, and following; ix. 1, and 
following; xxv. 22, and following; xxvi. 1, and following; xlii. 9, 
and following. 

22. For the costume of the widows of the Eastern Church, see the Greek 
manuscript No. 64 in tlie BiUiotheque Imperiale (old building), fol. 11, 
The costume to this day is very nearly the same the type, the reli< 
gious female of the East, being the widow, as that of the Latin nun 
is the virgin. 

23. Compare the " Shepherd of Hermas, vis. ii. ch. 4. 

24. K lAoyoui, the name of the religious females or nuns of the Eastern 

Church. KaXo's combines the significance of both "beautiful" 
and " good." 

25. See Note 16. 

26. I. Cor. xii. entire. 

27. The Pietist congregations of America, who are to the Protestants 
what convents are to the Catholics, resemble in many points trio 
primitive churches. Bridel, Reciis Americains. (Lausanne, 1861.) 

28. Prov. iii. 27, and following; x. 2; xi. 4; xxii. 9; xxviii. 27 ; Eccl. 
iii. 23, and following; vii. 36 ; xii. 1, and following; xviii. 14 ; xx. 
13, and following; xxxi. 11 ; Tobit, ii. 15, 22 : iv. 11 ; xii. 9 ; xiv. 11 ; 
Daniel iv. 24; Talmud of Jerusalem ; Feah. 15, b. 

29. Matthew vi. 2; Mischna, Schekalim, v. 6; Talmud of Jeruivtilem, 
Demai, fol. 23, 6, 

30. Acts X. 2, 4, 31. 

31. Ps. cxxxiii. 

32. Acts ii. 44-47 ; iv. 32-35. 

33. Ibid. ii. 41. 

34. See chapter vi. 

35. Acts vi. 5 ; xi. 20. 



CHAPTER TIIL 

1. Acts iv. 6. See Life of Jesus. 

2. Acts iv. 1-31; v. 47-41. 

3. See Life of Jesus. 



THE APOSTLES. 



325 



4 Acts V. 41. 

6. lb. iv, 5-6 V. 17. Comp. James ii. 6. 

6. Pii/of aj9;^(£, artx'", in Acts i. ; apx,u()£i5 iti Josephus Ant. XX. \ ill & 

7. Acts X.V. 5; xxi. 20. 

8. Let us add that the reciprocal antipathy of Jesus and the Phariseea 
seems to liave been exagi^erated by the synoptical Evangelists, per- 
haps on account of the events which, at the time of the great war, 
led to the flight of tlie Christians beyond the Jordan. It cannot 
l)V denied that James, brother of the Lord, was pretty nearly a 
Pharisee. 

9. Acts V. 34, and following. See Life of Jesits. 

10. Acts vi. 8 ; vii. 59. 

11. Probably descendants of Jews who had been taken to Rome as 
slaves, and then freed. Philo, Leg. ad Caiuin, ^ 23 ; Tacitus, Ann. 
ii 85. 

12. See Life of Jesus. 

13. Matt. XV. 2, and following ; Mark vii. 3 ; Gal. i, 14. 

14. Compare Gal. iii. 19; Ileb. ii. 2; Jos. Ant. XV. v. 3. It was sup- 

jjosed that God Himself had not revealed Himself in the theo- 
phanies of the ancient law, but that he had substituted in his place 
a sort of intermediary, the makak Jehovah. See the Hebrew dic- 
tionaries on the word "js^^'o- 

15. Deut. xvii. 7. 

16. Acts vii. 59; xxii. 20; xxvi. 10. 

17. John xviii. 31. 

18. Josephus, Ant. XVIII, iv. 2. 

19. lb., lb., XV. xi. 4; XVIII. iv. 2. Compare XX. i. 1, 2. 

20. The whole trial of Jesus proves this. Compare Acts xxiv. 27 ; 
xvv. 9. 

21. Suetonius, Gaius, 6; Dion Cassius lix. 8, 12; Josephus Ant. XVIII, 
V. 3; vi. 10; 2 Cor. xi. 32. 

22. Ventidius Cumanus experienced quite similar adventures. It ia 
true that Josephus exaggerates the misfortuues of aU those who 
are opposed to his nation. 

23. Madden, History of Jewish Coinage, p. 134, and following. 

24. Jos. Ant. XVIII. iv. 3. 

25. lb., XVIII. V. 3, 

26 Acts viii. 2. The words dvhp tv\a/3r]s designate a proselyte, not a 
pure Jew. See Acts ii. 5. 

27. Acts vui 1, and following; xi. 19; Acts xxvi. 10, would even lead 
to the belief that there were other deaths than that of Stephen. 
But we must not misconstrue words in our versions of a style so 
loose. Compare Acts ix. 1-2 with xxii. 5 and xxvi. 12. 

28. Compare Acts i. 4; viii. 1, 14; Gal. i. 17, and following. 



826 



THE APOSTLES. 



29 Acts 26-30 prove, in fact, that in the mind of the author the 
expressions of viii. 1 had not a meaning so absohite as might be 
supposed. [Except that after the first panic was ovtT some of the 
disciples, at first wholly scattered, may have returned by the lime 
of Saul's arrival. — Tr.] 

30. This happened in the case of the Esseuians. 

31. This happened to the Franciscans. 

32. I. Thess. ii. 14. 

33. Acts viii. 3; ix. 13, 14, 21, 26; xxii. 4, 19; xxvi. 9, and following 
Gal. i. 13, 23; I. Cor. xv. 9 ; Phil. iii. 6; I. Tim. i. 13. 

34. Gal. i. 14; Acts xxvi. 5; Phil. in. 5. 

35. Acts ix. 13, 21, 26. 



CHAPTER IX. 

1. Acts viii. 1, 4; x'. 19. 

2. Acts viii. 5, and following. That it was not the apostle is evident 
from a comparison of the passages, Ads viii. 1, 6, 12, 14, 40; xxi. 8. 
It is true that the verse, Acts xxi. 9, compared with what i*^ said by 
Papias (in Easebius His. Ecc. iii. 39), Polycrates (ib. v. 24), Cle- 
ment of Alexandria (Strom, iii. 6), would identify the Apostle Phi- 
lip, of whom these three ecclesiastical writers are speaking, with 
the Philip who plays so important a part in the Acfs. But it is 
more natural to admit that the statement in tlie verse in question 
is a mistake, and that the verse was only interpolated to contradict 
the tradition of the cl lurches of Asia and even of Hierapolis, 
whither the Philip who had daughters prophetesses retired. The 
particular data possessed by the author of the 4th Gospel (written, 
as it seems, in Asia Minor), in regard to the Apostle Philip are thus 
explained. 

3. See Life of Jesus, ch. xiv. It may be, however, that the habitual 
tendency of the author of the Acts shows itself here again. Seo 
Tntrod., and supra. 

4. Acts viii. 5-40. 

5. Jos. Ant. XVIII. iv. 1, 2. 

6. At this day Jit, on the road from Nablous to Jaffa, an hour and a 
half from ISTablous and from Sebastich. Sjc Robiuson Bib. Res. 
ii. p. 308, note ; iii. 134 (2d ed.), and his map. 

1 The accounts relative to this personage, given by the Christian wri- 
ters, are so fabulous that doubts may be raised even as to the 
reality of his existence. These doubts are all tlie more specious 
from the fict that in the Pseudo-Clementine literature "Simon the 
Magician " is often a pseudonym for St. Paul. But we cannot admit 
that the legend of Simon rests upon this foundation alone. How 
could the author of the Acts^ so favorable to St. Paid, have admitted 



THE APOSTLES. 



327 



a doctrine the hostile bearing of which could not have escaped 
hira " The chronological series of the Simonian School, the writ- 
ings which remain to us of it, the precise facts of topography and 
chronology given by St. Justin, fellow-countryman of our thauma- 
turgist, are inexplicable, moreover, upon the hypothesis of Simon'3 
having been an imaginary person. (See especially Justin Ajwl ii 
15, and Dial, cum Tryph. 120.) 

8. Acts viii. 5, and following. 

9. lb. viii. 9, and following. 

10. Justin, Apol. i. 2G, 56. 

11. Ilojnil. Pseudo-Olem. xvii. 15, 17; Qaadratus, in Easebius Hist. Ecc 
iv. 3. 

12. Acts viii. 25. 

13. lb. viii. 26-40. 

14. T. Maec. x. 80. 89; xi. 60, and f)llowin'x. Jos. AnL XIII., xiii. 3; 
XV. vii. 3 ; XVIIi. xi. 5 ; B. J., 1. iv. 2. 

15. Robinson Bib. Res., II. p. 41 and 5U, 515 (2d ed). 

16. Talm. of B ib. Erubiii 53 b and 54 a; ^ola, 46 b. 

17. Isaiah liii. 7. 

18. At this dav ^lerawi, near to G-ebel-Barkal (Lepsius, Denkmoder i, pL 
1 and 2 his) Strabo XVII., i. 54. 

19. Strabo, XVII., i. 54; Pliny VI., xxxv. 8; Dion Cassius liv. 5; 
Easebius Host. Ecc. ii. 1. 

20. The descon-dants of these Jews still exist under the name of Fala- 
sya,u. The missionaries who couvertel them came from Egypt. 
Their translation of the Bible w is ma le from the Greek version. 
The Falasyan are not Israelites by bloo 1. 

21. John xii. 20; Acts x. 2, 

22. See Dii\d. xxiii. 1. It is true that n- .'M' ic might be taken by cata- 
chresis to designate a chambjr^a'a as fancfciouary of the Oriental 
Court. But f5'i/iTir,c was suilicieiit to render this idea; dvovxoi 
ought then to be taken here in its proper sense. 

23. Acts viii. 26, 29. 

24. To conclude thence that all this history was invented by the author 
of the Acts seems to us rash. The author of the Acts insi.-^ts \y\t\\ 
satisfaction upon the facts which support his opinions ; but we do 
not believe that lie introduces into his narrative facts purely syra- 
bohcal or deliberately invented. See Introd. 

25. For the analogous state of the first Mormons, see Jules Reray 

Voyage au pays des Mormons (Paris, 1860), i. p. 195, and folio whig. 

26. Acts viii. 39-40. Compare Luke iv. 14. 

27. Acts ix. 32, 38. 

28. Ib. viii. 40; xi. 11. 

29. Ib. xxi. 8. 



828 



THE APOSTT.ES. 



30. Jos. B. .J riT. ix. 1. 

31. Acts xxii.. 23, and following; xxv. 1, 5 ; Tacitus Hist li 79. 

32. Jos. D. J. III. ix. 1. 

33. Jos. Ant. XX. viii. 7 ; B. J. II. xiii. 5 ; xiv. 5 ; xviil 1. , 

34. Palm, of Jerusalem, Sota^ 21 b. j 

35. Jos. XIX. vii. 3-4; viii. 2. 

36. Acts xi. 19. 

37. lb. ix. 2, 10, 19. 



CHAPTER X. 

1. This date resulted from the comparison of chapters ix., xi., xii. of 
the Acts with Glal. i. 18 ; ii. 1, and from the synchronism presented 
by Chapter xii. of the Ads with profane history, a synchronism 
which tixes the date of the incidents detailed in this chapter at the 
year 44. 

2. Acis'ix, 11: xxi. 39; xxii. 3. 

3. In the Epistle to Philemon, written about the year 61, he calls him- 
self an "old man" (v. 9); Acts vii. 57. he calls himself a young man. 

4. In the same way that those named " Jesus " often called themselves 
"Jason ;" the "Josephs," " Ilegesippc the " Eliacira," " Alcime," etc. 
St. Jerome [De Viris 111. 5} supposes Paul took his name from the 
proconsul Sergius Paulus {Ads xiii. 9). Sucli an explanation seems 
hardly admissible. If the xicts only give to Saul the name of " Paul," 
after his relations with that personage, that would argue that the 
supposed conversion of Sergius was the first important act of Paul 
as apostle of the Gentiles. 

5. Ads xiii. 9, and following. The closing phrases of all the Epistles; 
II. Peter iii. 15. 

6. The Ebionite calumnies (Epiphan. Adv. hcer. xxx. 16, 25) should 
not be seriously taken. 

7. St. Jerome, Joe. cit. Inadmissible as the present St. Jerome, though 
this tradition appears to have some foundation. 

8 Rom. xi. 1 ; Phil. iii. 5. 
9. Ads xxii. 28. 

10. AcU xxiii. 6. 

11. Phil. iii. 5 ; Acts xxvi. 5. 

12. Ads vi. 9 ; Philo, Leg. ad Caium.^ § 36. 

13. Strabo XIY. x. 13. 

14. Ibid. XIV. X. 14, 15 ; Philostratus Vie d'ApoUonius, 1, t» 

15. Jos. Ant, last paragraph, Cf. Vie de Jmts, 

16. PhUostratus, loc. ciL 



THE APOSTLES. 



329 



17. Ads xvii. 22, e c; xxl. 37. 

18. Gal. vi. 11 ; Rom. xvL 22. 

19. 11. Cor. xi. 6. 

20. Acts xxi. 40. I have elsewhere explaiaed the sense of the word 
'ESpjiari, Hist, des Lang&s Semit. ii. 1, 5 ; iii. 1, 2. 

21. Acts xxYL 14. 

22. I. Cor. XV. 33, Cf. Meinecke. Menandri fragm. p. 75. 

23. Tit. i. 12 ; Acts xvii. 28. The authenticity of the Epistle to Titus ig 
very doubtful As to the discourse iu chapter xvii. of the AcU^ it is 
the work of the author of the Acts rather than of St. Paul. 

24 The verse quoted from Aratus (Phjenom. 5) is really found in Cle- 
QxiXh.QB {Hy tpji io Jupiter, 5). Both are doubtless taken from some 
anonymous rehgious hymn. 

25. GaL i. 14. 

26. Acts xvii. 22, etc. Observe note 23. 

27. See Vie de Jisu-s, p. 72. 

28. Acts xviii. 3. 

29. Ibid. xvui. 3 ; I. Cor. iv. 12 ; I. Thess. ii. 9 ; II. Thess. iii. 8. 

30. Acts xxiiL 16. 

31. II. Cor. viii. 18, 22 ; xii. 18. 

32. Rom. xvi. 7, 11, 21. 

33. See above all the Epistle to Philemon. 

34. Gal. V. 12 ; Phil. iii. 2. 

35. II. Cor. X. 10. 

36. Acta Fault et TJiecke 3, in Tischendorf, Acta Apost, apocr. (Leipzig, 
1851), p. 41, and the notes (an ancient text perhaps, the original 
spoken of by TertuUian); the Philopatris, 12 (co:aposod about 363); 
Malala Chroaogr. p. 257, edit. Boipi; Nicephore, Hist Eccl. ii. 37. 
All these passages, above all that of Fhilopatris, admit that these 
were ancient portraits. 

37. L Cor. ii. 1, etc. ; IL Cor. x. 1, 2, 10; xi. 6. 

38. L Cor. ii. 3; IL Cor. x. 10. 

39. IL Cor. xi. 30 ; xii. 5, 9, 10. 

40. I. Cor. iL 3 ; II. Cor. L 8, 9 ; x. 10 ; xL 30 ; xii. 5, 9, 10 ; Gal. iv, 

13, 14. 

41. IL Cor. xii. 7-10. 

42. I Cor. vii. 7, 8, and the context, 

43. I. Cor. vii. 7, 8 ; ix. 5. This second passage is far from bv3ing de- 
monstrative. Piiil. iv. 3, would imply the contrary. Comp. Cieiueut 
of Alexandria, Strom, iii. 6, and Euseb. Hist. Eccl. iii. 30. ' Tlie pas- 
sage I. Cor. vii. 7, 8 alone has any weight on this point 

44. L Cor. vii. 7-9. 

45. Acts xxii. 3 ; xxvi. 4. 



830 



THE APOSTLES. 



46. Ibid. xxii. 3. Paul does not speak of this matter in certain parts of 
his Epistles where he would naturally mention him (Phil. iii. 5). 
There is an absolute contradiction between the principles of Gama- 
liel {Acts V. 34, etc.) and the conduct of Paul before his conversion 

47. Gal. i. 13, 14 ; Ads xxii. 3 ; xxvi. 5. 

48 II. Cor. V. 16, does not implicate him. The passages Acts xxii. 3, 
xxvi. 4, give reason to believe that Paul was at Jerusalem at the 
same time as Jesus, But it does not foUow that he saw him. 

49. Acts xxii. 4, 19 ; xxvi. 10, 11. 

50. Ibid. xxvi. 11. 

51. Iligh-Priest from 37 to 42 ; Jos. Ant XYIII. v. 3 ; XIX. vi. 2. 

52. Acts ix. 1, 2, 14; xxii. 5; xxvi. 12. 

53. See Bevue Numisviaiique, new series, vol. iii. (1858), p. 296, etc. ; 362, 
etc. ; Revue Archcol, April, 1864, p, 284, etc, 

54. Jos. B. J. II. XX. 2. 

55. II. Cor. xi. 32. The Roman money at Damascus is wanting during 
the reigns of Caligula and Claud. Eckhel, Docirina num. vet, part 
1, vol. iii. p. 330. Damascus money, stamped ''Aretas Philhellenius " 
(ibid.), seems to be of our Hareth (communication of M. Waddingtou), 

56. Jos. Ant. XYIII. v. 1, 3. 

57. Comp. Acts xii. 3 ; xxiv. 27 ; xxv. 9. 

58. Acts V. 34, etc. 

59. See an analogous trait in the conversion of Omar, Ibn-niseham. 

Sirat errasoul, p. 226 (Wustenfeld edition), 

60. Acts ix. 3 ; xxii. 6 ; xxvi. 13. 

61. Acts ix. 4, 8 ; xxii. 7, 11 ; xxvi. 14, 16. 

62. It is here that the tradition of the middle ages locates the miracle. 

63. This results from Acts ix. 3, 8; xxii. 6, 11. 

64. Nahr el-Aroadj. 

65. The plain is really more than seventeen hundred feet above the 
level of the sea. 

66. Acts xxvi. 14. 

67. From Jerusalem to Damascus is over eight days' journey. 

68. Acts ix. 8, 9, 18; xxii. 11, 13. 

69. II. Cor. xii. 1, etc. 

70. I experienced a crisis of this kind at Byblos; and with other prin- 
ciples I would certainly have taken the hallucinations that I had 
then for visions. 

71. We possess thirteen accounts of this important episode: Acts ix. 1, 
etc.; xxii. 5, etc.; xxvi. 12, etc. The differences remarked between 
these passages prove that the apostle himself varied in the accounts 
he gave of his conversion. That in Acts ix. itself is not homogene- 
ous, as we shall soon see, Comp, Gal. i. 15-17; I. Cor. ix. 1 ; xv 
8 ; Acis is. 27. 



THE APOSTLES. 



881 



72. "Witli the Monnons, and in the American trances, almost all the con- 
versions are also mduced by nervous excitement, producing hallu- 
cinations. 

"73. The circumstance that the companions of Paul saw and heard as he 
did may be legendary, especially as the accounts are on this point, 
being in direct contradiction. Comp. Acts ix. 7; xxii. 9; xxvi. 13 
The hypothesis of a faU from a horse is refuted by these accounts. The 
opinion which rejects entirely the narration in the Acts, founded ou 
£u Euji of Gal. i. 16, is exaggerated, in ^ii^ml in this passage, has 
the sense of "for me." Comp. G-al. i. 24. Paul surely had at a fixed 
moment, a vision which resulted in his conversion. 

74. Acts ix. 3, 7 ; xxii. 6, 9, 11 ; xxvi. 13. 

75. This was my experience during my illness at Byblos. My recollec- 
tions of the evening preceding the day of the trance are totally 
effaced. 

1 6. II. Cor. xii. 1, etc. 

77. Acts ix. 27; Gal. i. 16; I. Cor. ix. 1 ; xv. 8 ; Horn. Pseudo-Clem, 
xvu. 13 — 19. Comp. the experience of Omar, Sirai errasoul, p. 
226, etc. 

78. Acts ix. 8 ; xxii. 11. 

79. Its ancient Arabic name was Tarik el Adhwa. Tt is now called Tarik 
el Musteldyn, answering Xo 't'viin ti>eeia. The eastern gate (Bab 
SharJci) and a few vestiges of the colonnades yet remain. See the 
Arabic texts given by "Wustenfleld in the Zeltschrift fiir vergleschende 
Eraku'ide of Llidde for the year 1842, p. 168; Porter, Syria and Fa- 
lesilne, p. 477; Wilson, The Lands of the B^ble, II., 345, 355-52. 

80. Acts xxii. 11. 

81. The account given in Acts ix. appears to have been formed from two 
mingled narratives. One, the more original, comprises vv. 9, &c. 
The other more developed, containing more dialogue and legend, 
includes verses 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. The 12th verse 
belongs neither to that which precedes nor to that which follows it. 
The account in chapter xxii. 12-16, is more conformed to the above- 
mentioned texts. 

82. Acts ix, 12. It should read / iv ^"'iix-in according to manu- 
script B. of the "Vatican. Comp. verse 10. 

83. Acts ix. 18; comp. ToUt, ii. 9 ; vi. 10; xi. 13. 

84. Acts\x. 18; xxii. 16. 

85. Gal. i. 2, 8-9, 11, &c. ; I. Cor. ix. 1; xi. 23; xv. 8, 9; Col. i. 25; 
Ephes. i. 19; iii. 3, 7, 8; Acts xx. 24; xxii. 14-15, 21; xxvi. 16; 
Homiliae Pseudo-Clem., xvii. 13-19. 

86. Gal. i. 17. 

87. 'AxSiu is "the province of Arabia," principally composed of the 
Hauran. 

88. Gal. i. 17, &c. ; Acts ix. 19, &c. ; xxvi. 20. The author of the Acts 
believes that this first sojourn at Damascus was short, and that 



832 



THE APOSTLES. 



Paul, shortly after his conversion, came to Jernsalem and preached 
there. _ (Comp. xxii. 17.) Bat the passage of the epistle to the Gala- 
tians is peremptory. 

89. Insc. discovered by "Waddington and De Yogiie (Revue Archeol.; 
April, 1864, p. 284, &c., Coraptes Etndus de I'A'^ad. des Inscr. et B 
L., 1865, p. 106-108). 

90. Dion Cass. Ux. 12. 

91. I have discussed this in the Bulletin Archtologique of Langperier and 
De Vvette, September, 1856. 

92. G-al. i. 16, with following verses, prove that Paul preached immedi- 
ately after his conversion. 

93. Jos. B. J., I., IL 25 ; II., xx. 2. 

94. Acts ix. 20-22. 

95. Gal. i. 16. It is the sense of nv -Kooaavtdi^n^v aapKi Kal ai^ari. 



CHAPTER XI. 

1. Acts ix. 31. 

2. See the atrociously naive avowal of 3 Mace. vii. 12, 13. 

3. Read the 3d Book (apocryphal) of Maccabees, entire, and compare it 
with that of Esther. 

4. Suetonius, Caitc-s, 22, 52; Dion Cassius, lix. 26, 28; Thilo, Leg. ad 

Caium, § 25, &c. ; Josephus, Ant. XVIII., viii. ; XIX., i. 1-2 ; R t/"., 
II. X. 

5. Philo, Leg. ad Caium, § 30. 

6. Philo, In Flaccum, § 7 ; Leg. ad Caium, § 18, 20, 26, 43. 

7. Philo, Leg. ad Caium, % 29; Josephus, Ant. XVIII. viii.; B.J. TI. x , 
Tacitus, Ann. XII. 54; Riiit.Y.d, completing '^iie first '^assage by the 
second. 

8. Philo, Leg. ad Caium, § 27, 30, 44, and folic er'mg. 

9. Acts ix. 31. 

10. Gal. i. 18, 19; ii. 9. 

11. Acts xi. 29, 30. 

12. Acts ix. 32. 

13. At this day, Ludd. 

14. Acts ix. 32-35. 

15. Jaffa. 

16. Jos. Ani. XIY., x. 6. 

17. Acts ix. 43; x. 6, 17,32. 

18. Mischna, KeiuJjoth, vii. 10, 

19. Compare Gruter. p. 891, 4; Reinesius, Tnscript., XIV. 61 ; Mommfeen, 
T/ISC7: regni Xeap.. 622, 2094, 3052, 4985; Pape, WoH der Griech. 
Eigenn., on this word Cf. Jos. B. J. IV., iil 6. 

20. Acts ix. 36, and foUowmg. 



THE APOSTLES. 



333 



21. rbld. ix. 39. TTie Greek runs: oaa zttolci jxer' avr-Jjv oZraa. 

23. Acts X. 9-16 ; xi. 5-10. 

24. Ibid. X. 1 ; xi. 18. 

25. Tliere were at least thirty-two. (Orelli & Heuzen, laser. Lat.^ ITos 
90, 512, 6756.) 

26. Compare Acts xxvii. 1. and Heuzen, No. 6709. 

27. Compare Luke vii. 2, and following. Luke is priding himself, it is 
true, upon this idea of virtuous centurions, Jews in heart without 
circumcision (see Introduction). But the example of Izates (Jos. 
Ant, XX., ii. 5), proves that such situations were possible. Com- 
pare Jos. B. J., II., xxviii. 2 ; OreUi, Inscr., No. 2523. 

28. Acts X. 2, 7. 

29. This seems, it is true, in contradiction to G-al. ii. 7-9. But the con- 
duct of Peter in that which relates to the admission of the G-entilea 
was never very consistent. Gal. ii. 12. 

30. Acts xi. 18. 

31. Ibid. XV. 1, and following. 

32. II. Cor. ii. 32, 33 ; Acta ix. 23-25. 

33. Gal. i. 18. 

34. Ibid. i. 18. 

35. Ibid. i. 23, 
3G. Acts ix. 26. 

37. Gal. i. 18. 

38. Acts ix. 26. 

39. Acts ix. 27. All this portion of the Acts has too little historical 
value to enable us to affirm that this fine action of Barnabas took 
place during the fifteen days that Paul passed at Jerusalem. But 
there is no doubt, in the manner in which the Acts present the case, 
a true sentiment of the relations of Paul and Barnabas. 

40. Gal. i. 19, 20. 

41. Ibid. i. 18. Impossible, consequently, to admit as exact the 28th 
and 29th verses of Acts ix. The author of the Acts makes au abu- 
sive employment of these ambushes and murderous projects. The 
Acts vary from the Epistle to the Galatians in supposing the 
sojourn of St. Paul at Jerusalem too long, and too near to his con- 
version. Naturally the Epistle merits our preference, at least, as to 
its chronology and the material circumstances. 

42. See especially the Epistle to the Galatians. 

43. Epistle to the Galatians, i. 11, 12, and nearly throughout; I. Cor. ix. 
1, and following; xv. 1, and following; II. Cor. xi. 21, and following. 

44. We find this sentiment more or less directly; Rom. xii. 14; L Cor, 
xiii. 2 ; II. Cor. iii. 6 ; I. Thess. iv. 8 ; v. 2, 6. 

45. Gal. i. 22, 23. 

46. Acts XX. 17, 21. 



834 



THE APOSTLES. 



4*7 Ads ix. 29, 30. 
48 G-al. i. 21. 

49. Acts ix. 30 ; xi. 25, The capital chronological datum for this epccb 
of the life of St. Paul is Gal. i. 18; ii. 1. 

50. Cilicia had a church in the year 51. Acis xv. 23, 41. 

51 It is in the Epistle to the Galatians (towards 56), that Paul places 
himself for the first time openly in the rank of the apostles (i. 1, and 
the following). According to G-al. ii. 7-10, he had received this title 
hi 51. Still he did not assume it, even in the subscription of the 
two Epistles to the Thessalonians, which are of the year 53. 
I. Tliess. u. 6, does not imply an official title. The author of the 
Acts never gives Paul the name of "apostle." "The apostles," for 
the author of the Acts, are "the Twelve." Acts xiv. 4, 14, is au 
exception. 



CHAPTER XII. 

1. Acts xi. 19. 

2. Josephus, Wars of the Jezvs, ii. 4. Rome and Alexandria were the 
two chief ones ; compare Strabo xvi. ii. 5. 

3. Compare Otfried Muller, Antiochian Antiquities^ G-ottingeu, 1839, p. 68. 
John Ohrysostom, on Saint Ignatius, 4 (opp. t. ii. p. 597, edit. Montfau- 
con): On Matthew, Homihes Ixxxv. 4. (vol. viii. p.810). He estimates 
the population of Antioch at two hundred thousand souls, without 
counting slaves, infants, and the immense suburbs. The present city 
has a population of not more than seven thousand. 

4. The corresponding streets of Palmyra, G-erasium, Gadara, and Sebaste, 
were probably imitations of the grand Corso of Antioch. 

5. Some traces of it are found in the direction of Bab Bolos. 

6. Dion Chrysostome, Orat. xlvii. (vol. ii. p. 229, edit. Reiske), Libanius, 
Antiochicus, p. 337, 340, 342, 356 (edit. Reiske), Malala, p. 232, et seq., 
276, 280, et seq. (Bonn, edition.) The constructor of these great 
works was Antiochus Epiphanes. 

7. Libanius, Antioch. 342, 344. 

8. Pausanias, vi. ii. 7 ; Malala, p. 201 ; Visconti Mus. Pio-clemen., vol. iiL 
46. See especially the medals of Antioch. 

9. Pierian, Bottian, Penean, Tempean, Castalian, Olympic games, Jopolis 
(which was referred to lo). The city pretended to be indebted for its 
celebrity to Inachus, to Orestes, to Daphne and to Triptolemus. 

10. See Malala, p. 199 ; Spartian, TAfe of Adrian, p. 14; Julian, Misopogon, 
p. 361, 362 ; Ammian Marcelhn., xxii. 14 ; Eckhel, Doct. num vet part 
i. 3, p. 326 ; Guigniaut, Religvons de V'Ant. planches No. 268. 

11. John Chrysostom, Ad pop. Antioch. homiL xix. 1 ; (vol. iL p. 189.) De 
Sanctis martyr, i. (vol. ii. p. 651.) 

12. Libanius, Antioch., p. 348. 



THE APOSTLES. 



335 



13. Act. SS. Mail, v. p. 333. 409, 414, 415, 416 ; Asseraani, Bib. or., ii. 323. 

14. Juvenal Sat., iii. 62, et seq. ; Stacc. Silves, i. vi. 72. 
15 Tacitus Ann. ii. 69. 

]6. Malala. p. 284, 287, et seq.; Libanius. Da Angariis, p. 555, et seq.; 
Da carcere vindis. p. 445, et seq. ; ad Tiniocrai^nn. p. 335 ; Ardlodi., 
323; Pliilost., Vit AgolLxA^; Luciaa, Bi SaUctUone.lQ; Diod. Sic. 
fragTQ. lib. xxxiv. Xo. 34 (p. 353, ed, Dindorf ) ; John Chrysos. Homil. 
vii. in Matt. 5 (vol. vii. p. 113); Ixxiii. in Matt. 3 (ibid. p. 712); De 
ctjnsubsi. contra Anon., 1 (vol. i., p. 501); Be Anna, 1 (vol. iv. p. 730), 
Be Bavid d Sa-lle iii. 1 {\o\. iv. 768, 770); Julian Misopogou. p. 343, 
350, edit. Spanheim; Acies de Sainte Thecle. attributed to Basil of 
Seleucia, published by P. Pantius (Auvers, 1603) p. 70. 

11. PhUostr. J./)OiZ. iii. 58; Ausonius, Clar. Url., 2; J. Capitolin Yerus, 
7; Marcus Aiireliu-s, 25; Herodian ii. 10; John of Antioeh in tha 
Excerpta Yalesiana, p. 844; Suidas, at the word - .via .6,. 

18. Julian Jlisopogon, p. 344, 365, etc. ; Eunap. Vie des Soph., p. 496, edit. 
Boissonade (Didot) ; Amniien JlarcdUn xxii. 14. 

19. John Chrysos. Be Lazaro, ii. 11 (vol. 1. p. 722, 723). 

20. Cic. pro. Archia, 3, making allowance for the usual exaggeration of 
an advocate. 

21. Th'ilostrat us Vie d''ApoUonius, iii. 58. 

22. Malala, p. 287, 289. 

23. John Chrysos., Homil. vii. On Matt. 5, 6. (vol. viL p. 113); See 0. 
MiiUer, Antiq. Aniioch., p. 33 note. 

24. Libanius, Aniiochichus, p. 355-366. 

25. Juvenal, iii. 62 et seq. and ForceUini, in the word ambuhaja, where 
he observes that the word amhuha is Syriac. 

26. Libanius, Aniioch p. 315; Be carcere vinciis, p. 455; Juhan Miso- 
pogou, p. 367, edit. Spanheim 

27. Libanius, Pro rhetori'bu-s. p. 211. 

28. Libanius, Antiochichus, p. 363. 

29. Libanius, Antiochichus, p 354 et seq. 

30. The actual enclosure, which is of the time of Justinian, presents 
the same particulars. 

31. Libanius, Antioeh., p. 337, 338, 339. 

32. The lake Ak Benir, which forms on this side the actual limit of the 
territory of Antakieh, had, as it appears, no existence in olden 
times. See Hitter, Erdlcunde, xvii, p. 1149, 1613 et seq. 

33. Josephus Ant., xii iii 1 ; xiv. xii. 6 ; Wars of the Jews, ii. xviil 5 

vii iii. 2-4. 

34. Josephus, against Apion, ii. 4; Wars of the Jews, vii, iii. 2-4. 

35. Malala, p. 244, 245 ; Jos., Wars of the Jews, vii v. 2. 

36. Acts vi 5. 

37. Ibid, xi. 19, ct seq. 



S36 



THE APOSTLES. 



SS Compare Josephus, Wars of the Jev:s^ ii. xviii. 2. 

39. Acts XV 20, 21. The proper reading is "EAAr/^aj TAXrp't^ras cornea 
from a false agreement with ix. 29. 

40. Malala, p. 245. The narrative of Malala cannot, indeed, be etact, 
Jo&ephus says not a word respecting the invasion of which the 
chronographer makes mention. 

41. Malala, p 243,265-266. Compare Mivioirs of Academy of Inscrip- 
tions and Belles- Lettres" session of IT August, 1865. 

42. S Athanasius, Tomus ad Antioch, (0pp. vol. i. p. 771, edit. Montfau- 
con); S. John Chrysostorn, Ad. pop. Antioch^ Homil i. and ii begin- 
ning (vol. ii. p. i. and xx.); In Inscr. Act. ii. beginning (vol. iii. 60); 
Citron. Fasch, p. 296 (Paris); Theodoret, Hist. Eccl., ii. 27; iii. 2. 
8. 9. The agreement of these passages does not permit of a- rp K-a- 
\' Vjdi'ri HaA.iia being rendered by ''in that which was called the 
old town," as the editors have sometimes done. 

43. Malala, p. 242. 

44. Po<-ocke, Descript. of the East, vol. ii. part i. p. 192 (London 1745), 

Chesney, Expedition for the Survey of the Rivers Euphrates and Tigris, 
i. 425, et seq. 

45. That is to say, opposite to that part of the old town which is still 
inhabited. 

46. See below. 

47. The type of the Maronites is reproduced in a striking manner in 
the country of Antakieh, Soneideieb, and Beylan. 

48 F. Xaironi, Anoplia fidei Caihol. (Rome, 1694), p 58, et seq., and the 
work of S. Em. Paul Peter Masad, present patriarch of the Maron- 
itts, entitled Kitab ed. durr ed. mauzoum (in Arabic, printed at the 
convent of Zamisch in the Kesronan, 1863), 

49. Acts xi. 19, 20; xih. 1. 

50. GaL ii. 11, et seq., presumes it to be so. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

1. Acts xi. 22, &c. 

2. Acts xi, 25. 

3. Acts xi, 26. 

4. Libanius. Pro iemplis, p. 164, &c. ; De carcere vinctis, p. 458.; Theo- 
doret, ffist. Eccl. iv. 28 ; Jean Chrysost. ; Homil. Ixxii. in Matt. 3 
(vol. vii. p. 705). In Epist. ad Ephes. Hom. vi. 4 (vol. xi. p. 44) ; In 
1. Tim. Hom. xiv. 3 &c. (ibid. p. 628, &c.); Nicephore xii. 44; G-lycaa 
p. 257 (Paris edition). 

6. Acts xi. 26. 

6. The passages I. Petri iv. 16, and James ii. 7, compared with Suet 
Nero 1 6, and with Tac. Ann. xv. 44, confirm this idea. See also 
Acts xxvi. 28. 



TFIE APOSTLES. 



837 



7. It is true that we find ' Aria^'o; {Acts xx. 4; Philo, Legatio, 36; 
Stiabo, etc.). But it seems to be a Latini^m like AaX^Lavm^ and the 
names of the sects S u oi^n^n, iv^? .(^i^M^.u, y^qOcwn, etc. The G-roek 
derivative Yotrrr i had been yo'^''""?- It serves nothing to say 
that the termination aaiirS is a Doric form of the Greek ..vus] this 
was not kno'vvn at all during the first century. 

8. Tac. (loG. cit.) so interprets it. 

9. Suet. Claud. 25. Wo sliall discuss this passage in our next book. 

10. Corpus lu.scr. Gr.^os. 2883 d., 3857 g., 3857 p., 3865 1. Tertul. Apol. 
3 ; Lactance Divin. Inst. iv. 7. Comp. the French form chrestien. 

11. James ii. 7, only implies an occasional usage, 

12. Acts xxiv. 5 ; Tertull. Adv. Marcionem iv. 8. 

13. Kesdrd. The names of mescliiholo in Syriac, mesild in Arabic, are 
relatively modern, and outlined from •^■.■nn ,u6-. The name of " Gali- 
leans " is much more recent. Julian gave it an official signification. 
Jul. Epi.it. vii. ; Gregory, Orat. iv. (Invect. i.), 76 ; S. CyriUe d'Alex. 
Coidre Jalien ii. p. 39, Spachsim ed.) ; Phtlopatris, dialogue falsely 
attributed to Lucian. tliough really of the time of Julien, § 12; 
Theodoret HiM. Eccl. iii. 4. I beUeve that in Epictetus (Arrien, 
Di-ssi^rt. iv., vii., 6) and in Marcus Aurehus {Pemfes xi. 3), this 
name does not designate Christians, but rather '-assassins" (Sica- 
ires\ fanatical disciples of Judas the Galilean or the Gaulouite, and 
of John of GisehaJa. 

14. I. Petri iv. 16 ; James ii. 7. 

15. Acts xiii. 2. 

16. Ibid xiii. 1. 

17. See chapter vi. 
IS. Acts xiii. 1. 

19. Eusob. CUron. at the year 43; nisi. Eccl. iiu 22. Ignatii Epist. ad 
A.diocli. (apocr.) 7. 

20. I. Cor. xiv. entire. 

21. II. Cor. xii. 15. 

22. It places this vision fourteen years before he wrote the second 
Ep'stlc to the Corintliians, which dates about the year 57, It is not 
impossible, however, that he was still at Tarsus. 

i.3 For Jewish ideas about the heavens, see T&stam. das 12 pair. Levi. 3 ; 
Asce/ision dPsaie, vi. 13 ; via. 8, and aU the rest of the book; Tahn. 
of Babyl, Chagiga 12 b.; ilidraschira BereschiiJi rabba. sect xix. fol. 
19 c. ; Schemoth rabba, sect. xv. fol. 115 d. ; Bammiabar rabba, sect, 
xiii, fol. 218 a.; Ddjarini rabba, sect. ii. fol. 253 a.; Schir hasschirim 
rabba, fol. 24 d. 

24. Comp. Talmud of Babylon, Chagiga, 14 b. 

25. Comp. Ascension dPsaie, vi. 15; \'ii. 3, ^uO, 
?6. :L Cor. xii. 12; Rom. xv. 19. 

27 I. Cor. xii. entire. 



838 



THE APOSTLES. 



28. Ads xl 29; xxiv. 17; Gal ii. 10; Rom. sv, 26; 1. Cor. xvi. 1; U 
Cor. v-;ii. 4, 14 ; ix. 1, 12. 

29. Jos. J^^t. XYIIL, vi., 3, 4; XX., v. 2. 

30. James ii. 5, &c. 

31. Acts xl 28; Jos. Ant. XX., ii. 6; v 2; Euseb. Hist. Eccl. ii. 8, 12. 
Comp. Acts xii. 20; Tnc. Ann. xii. 43 ; Suet. Claud. 18; Dion Cass. 
Ix. 11. Aurelius Victor, Cas., 4; Euseb. Cliron. year 43, &e. The 
reign of Claudius was afflicted almost every year by partial famines. 

32. Acts xi. 27, &c. 

33. The book of AcU (xi. 30 ; xii. 25) includes Paul in tliis journey. But 
Paul declares that between his first sojourn of two weeks and hia 
journey for tlie affair of the circumcision, he did not visit Jerusalem, 
(Gal. ii. 1.) See Introduction. 

34. Gal. i., 17-19. 

35. Acts xiii. 3 ; xv. 36 ; xviii. 23. 

36. Ibid. xiv. 25 ; xviii. 22. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

1. The inscriptions of these countries fully confirm the indications of 
Josephus. (Comptes Reudus de I'Acad. des Inscr. /. B. i., 1865. pp. 
106, 109.) 

2. Josephus, Ant. xix. iv. B. J., ii. xi. 

3. Ih. xix. V. i. ; vi. i. ; B. J., II. xi. 5 ; Dion Cassius, LX. 8. 

4. Dion Cassius, LIX. 24. 

5. Jos. A7it xix. ix. 1. 

6. Ibid. XIX. vi. 1, 3; ii. 3, 4; viii. 2; ix. 1. 

7. Ibid. XIX. vii. 4. 

8. Ibid. XIX. vi. 3. 

9. Juvenal, Sat. vi. 158, 159; Persius, Sat. v. 180. 

10. Phil 3. In Fiaccum.1 § 5, and following. 

11. Jos. Ant. XIX. V. 2, and sequel; xx. vi. 3.; B. J., II. xii. 7. The re- 

strictive measures which he took against the Jews of Rome {Actt 
xviii. 2; Suetonius Claude, 25; Dion Cassius, LX. 6) were connectea 
with local circumstances. 

12. Jos. Ant. xix. vi. 3. 

13. Ibid. xix. vii. 1; B. J. ii. xi. 6 ; Y. iv. 2. Tacitus, Hist. v. 12. 

14. Tacitus, Ann. vi. 47. 

15. Jos. Ant. XIX. vii. 2; vii. 21, viii. 1 ; XX. i. 1. 

16. Ibid. XIX. viii. 1. 

17. Suetonius, Cants, 22, 26, 35; Dion Cassius, lix. 24; Ix. 8. Tacitofc. 



THE APOSTLES. 



339 



Ann. si. 8. As a type of the part these little Eastern Kinj^s played, 
stuiy the c ii'0 3r of ilero l A^rippa I, iii Josephus (J./^;;. xv^jii. aaci 
xix.) Co apare Hjraee, Sit. I. vii. 

18. Supra. 

19. Acts xii. 3. 

20. Ibid. xii. 1, and following. 

21. James was in fact beheaded, and not stoned to death. 

22. Acts xii. 3, and following. 

23. Ihid. xii. 9, 11. The account in the Acts is so lively and just, that it 
is di:ilcult to find anyplace in it for any prolonged legendary elabora- 
tion. 

24 Jos. Ant. xix. viii. 2; Acts xii. 18, 23. 

25. Ibid. xix. vii. 4. 

26. Acts. xii. 23. Compare 2 Mace. ix. 9; Jos. B. J. I. xxxiii. 5 ; Talmud 
of Bab. Sota, 35 a. 

27. Jos. Aid. XIX. vi. 1 ; XX. i. 1, 2. 

28. Ibid. XX. V. 2 ; 5. /. ii. xv. I ; xviii. 7, and following ; lY. x. 6 ; V. i. 6 ; 
Tacitus, ^/i/i., XV 28. H^d. i. 11; ii. 79; Suetonius, Vi^^'p. 6; Cor- 
pus In^cr. Grcec. No. 4j57. (of, ihid. iii. p. 311.) 

29. Jos. Afii. XX. i. 3. 

30. Ibid. XX. V. 4, B. J. II. xii. 

31. Josephu?, who relates with so much care, the history of these agita 
tions in all its details, never mixes up the Caristiaus with them. 

32. Jos. Ajaliist Apion,, ii. 39; Dion Cassius, Ixvi. 4. 

33. Jos., B.J.,JV., iv. 3; V., xiii. 6; Suetonius, Am^., 93; Strabo, XVI., 
ii. 34, 37 ; Tacitus, Ht-^t., v. 5. 

34. Jos., Ant., XIII., ix. 1; xi. 3 ; xv. 4; XV., vii. 9, 

35. Jos., B. J., II., xvii. 10 ; Vda^ 23. 

36. Matt, xxiii. 13. 

37. Jos., Ant., XX., vii. 1, 3; Compare XVI., vii. 6. 

38. Ibid. XX., ii. 4. 

39. Ibid. XX., ii. 5, 6 ; iv. 1. 

40. Jos., B. J., II., XX. 2. 

41. Seneca, fragment in St. Augustin. Be civ. Dei, vi. 11. 

42. Jos., Ant., XX., ii.-iv. 

43. Tacitus, Ann., xii. 13, 14. The greater part of the names of this 
family are Persian. 

44 The name of Helen" proves this. Still, it is rem.arkable that the 
G-reek does not figure upon the bi-lingual inscription (Syriac and 
Syro-Chaldaic) of the tomb of a princess of the family, disci-vered 
and brought to Paris by M. de Saulcy. See Journal Asiatique, Dec, 
1865. 

45. Cf. Bereschith rabba. xlvi. 51 d. 



8i0 



THE APOSTLES. 



46. It is accordinp: to all appearances the monnment tcnown at; :his day 
under the name of " Tomb of the Kings." See Jouracl Aaiaiique, 
passage cited. 

41. Jos., B. J., ii., xix. 2 ; vi., vi. 4. 

48. Talmud of Jerusalem, Peak, 15 b., where there are put into the 
mouth of one of the Monobaze maxims that exactly recall the Gospe? 
(Matt. vi. 19 and following). Talmud of Bab., Baba BatJira, 11 a; 
Joma, 37 a; Nazir, 19 b; Schabbath, 68 b; Sifra, 70 a; Bereschiih 
rabba, xlvi., fol. 51 d. 

49. Moses of Khorene, ii. 35; Orose, vii. 6. 

50. Luke, xxi. 21. 

51. T(i ndroi ' Elirt, an cxprcssiou so familiar with Josephus, when he 
defends the position of the Jews in the pagan world. 



CHAPTER XV. 

1. It is well known that no MS. of the Talmud is extant to control the 
printed editions. 

2. Jos., Ant, XX., V. 2. 

3. Jos., B. J., IL, xvii. 8-10; Vita, 5. 

4. The comparison of Christianity with the two movements of Judu3 
and Theudas is made by the author of the Acts himself (V. 36.) 

5. Jos. Ard., XX., V. 1 ; Ads, u. s. Remark the anachronism in Acts. 
G. Jos. Ant, XYIIL, iv. 1 , 2. 

7. Jos. Ant, XX., V. 3, 4; B. J., ii., xii. 1, 2; Tacit, Am., xii. 54. 

8. Jos. Ant., XX., viii. 5. 

9. Jos. Ant, XX., viii. 5 ; B. J., II., xiii. 3. 

10. Jos. B., J., .VII. viii. 1 ; Mischna, Sanhedrin, ix. 6. 

11. Jos. Ant, XX., viii. 6, 10; B. J., IL, xiii. 4. 

12. Jos. Ant, XX., viii. 6 ; B. J., IL, xiii. 5 ; Acts xxi. 38. 

13. Jos. Ant, XX., viii. 6 ; B. J., IL, xiii. 6. 

14. See ante, p. 153, note. 

15. Justin, Apol., 1, 26, 56. It is singular that Josephus, so well in- 

formed on Samaritan affairs, does not mention him. 
J 8 Acts viii. 9, etc. 

17. It cannot be considered entirely apocryphal in view of the agreement 
between tlie system set forth in it, and what little v/o learn from the 
Acis concerning the doctrine of Simon upon miraculous powers. 

18. Homil. Pseudo-Clem., ii. 22, 24. 

19. Justin, Apot 1, 26, 56; ii. 15. Diah cum Tryphone, 120; Ireu. Adv 
haer. I. xxiii. 2-5 ; xxvii. 4 : II. praef ; III. prosf; Ilomilias pseudo-clem 
L 15; ii. 22, 25, etc.; Recogn. i. 72; ii. 7, etc.; iii. 47; Philosophu- 
menal V. vii. ; VI. i. ; X. iv. ; Epiph. ylc^y. Ace/-. Laer. xxi. ; Oii^i'. Cont 



THE APOSTLES. 



841 



Gels. V. 62; vi. 11 ; Tertiill. De Anima, 34; Constii. aposi. v'l. 1^; S. 
Jerome, la Mali. xxiv. 5 ; Tlieod. Hteret. fab. i. 1. It is frcira the 
quotations given in tlie F.dlosophumena, and not in the travesties of 
the Fathers, that an idea may be obtained of "The Great Exposi- 
tion." 

20 Phiiosophum., IV. vii. ; YI. i. 9, 12, 13, 17, 18. Compare Revel, i. 4, 
8; iv. 8; xi. 17. 

21. Philosopliam., VI. i. 17. 

22. Ibid. VI. i. 1 6. 

23. Act. viii. 10; Phiiosophum., VL i. 18; Homil. Pseudo-Clcm., ii. 22. 

24. Allusion to the adventure of the poet Stesichorus. 

25. Iren. Adv. hair. I. xxiii. 2-4; Hooail. Pseudo-Clem., ii. 23. 

26. Phiiosophum. VI. i. 16. 

27. See Vie de Jesus, p. 247-249. 

28. Ibid. p. 247, note 4. 

29. Chroii. Samarit. c. 10 (edit. Juynboll Leyden, 1848). Cf. Reland, De 
Sa/a. § 7 ; Dissertat. miscell. Part II. Gesenius, Comment de Sam. 
TheoL (llalle, 1824), p. 24, etc. 

30. In a quotation given in the Philosophumena, VI. i. 16, is a citation 
from tlie synoptical gospels wiiieh see:ns to bo given as from the 
text of the " Great Exposition." But this may be an error. 

31. Homil. Pseudo-Clem. II. 23-24. 

32. Ireu. Adv. hxr. I. xxiii. 3. Phiiosophum. VI. I. 19. 

33. Homil. Psoudo-Clem. ii. 22. Rocogn. II. 14. 

34. Iren. Adv. hasr. II. praef. III. prsef. 

35. Seo the Epistle (probably authentic) of Paul to the Colossians, i. 

15, &c. 

36. Epiph. Adv. ha3r. L. xxx. 1. 

37. An argument for the latter hypothesis is, that Simon's sect soon 
changed into a school of fortune-tellers, and for tlie manufacture of 
philters and charms. Philosoph. VI. i. 20. TertuU. De Aniaia, 57. 

38. Phiiosophum. VI. i. 20. Cf. Orig. Contra Cels. i. 57; vi. 11. 

39. Hogesip. in Euseb. Hist. Eccl. iv. 22; Clem. Alex. Strom, vii. 17; 

Cofistd. apost. vi. 8, 16; xviii. 1, &c. Justin, Apol. i. 26, 56; Ireu, 
Adv. hcer. I. xxiii. init. Theod. Haer, foL I. i. 2, TertuU. De Prxscr. 
47 ; De Anima, 50. 

40. The most celebrated is that of Dositheus. 

41. Act. viii. 9 ; Iren. Adv. hair, xxiii. 1. 

42. Phiiosophum. VI. i. 19-20. The author attributes these perverse 
doctriiies only to Si inon's disciples ; but if the disciples entertained 
them, the master must have shared them in some degree. 

43. We shall hereafter see what these narrations signify. 

44. The inscription SiMONi Deo Sancto, stated by Juctin to exist in the 
island {Apol. I. 26) of the Tiber, and mentioned also by other Fa- 



842 



THE APOSTLKS. 



thers, was a Latiu inscription to the Sabine deity Scrao Soncus, 
Semoni-Deo-Sanco. There was in fact discovered under Gregory 
XIII. in the island of St. Bartholomew, an inscription now iu the 
Vatican bearing that dedication. V. Baronius, Ann. Eccl. 44; Orelli, 
Inser. Lat. No. 18G0. There was at this spot on the island of the 
Tiber a college of bideniales in honor of Semo-Sancus, with many 
inscriptions of the same kind. Orelli, No. 1861. (Monunsen, Inscr. 
Lat. reg-ni Neapol. No. 6770). Comp. Orelli, No. 1859. Henzen, No. 
6999; Mabillou, Museum Hal. 1. 1st part, p. 84. OreUi, No. 1862, is 
not to be relied on. (See Corp. luscr. Lat. I. No. 542.) 

45. This gross blunder could not have been detected witliout the dis- 
covery of the Philosophumena^ wliich alone contains extracts from the 
Apophasis magna (VI. i. 19). Tyre was celebrated for its courtezans. 

46. ' K \ Bong avdpwTTOi, avTiKeiixei-ni. See Homil. Pscudo-Clem, hom. xvii. 
passim. 

47. Thus in the Pseudo-Clementine literature, the name of Simon the 
Magician indicates sometimes the apostle Paul, against whom the 
writer had a spite. 

48. It may be observed that in Acts, he is not treated as an enemy, but 
only reproached as of low sentiments, and room is left for repentance, 
(viii, 24).) Perhaps Simon was living when those lines were written, 
and his relations to Christianity had not yet become absolutely 
hostile. 



CHAPTER XVL 

1. Acts xii. 1, 25. Remark the context. 

2. 1 Peter v. 13 ; Papias in Euseb. Hid. Acc. iii. 39. 

3. Acts xiii. 2. 

4. Gal i. 15, 16; Acts xvii. 15, 21; xxvi. 17-18; 1 Cor. i. 1; Rom. i, 
1, 5 ; XV. 15, etc. 

5. Acts xiii. 5. 

6. The author of Acts, being a partisan af the hierarchy and of church- 
domination, has perhaps inserted this circumstance. Paul knew 
nothing of any such ordination or consecration. He received his 
commission from Christ, and did not consider himself any m.ore 
especially the envoy of the church of Aatioch tha* of that of Jeru- 
salem. 

7. Acts xiii. 3 ; xiv. 25. 

8. In I. Peter v. 13, Babylon means Rome. 

9. (]ic. Pro Archia, 10. 

10. Jos., B. J., IL XX. 2 ; VIL iii. 3. 

11. Acts xviii. 24, &c. 

12. See Philo. De Vita Contemjtl. passim. 



THE APOSTLES. 



343 



13. Pseudo-Heimes. Asclspius, fol. 158, v. 159 r. (Florence Juntes, 15, 12.^ 

14. Cic. Pro Flacco, 28; Pliilo. In Flaccwn, % 7; Log. ad Caium, § 33: 
Acts ii. 5-11 ; vi. 9; Corp. Inscr. Gr. No. 5381. 

15. Lex. Wisigoth; lib. xii., tit. iL and iii. in "Walter. Corp, jur. G-erniau 
Antiq. L. L p. 630, &c. 

16. See Vie de Jesus, p. 137. 

17. Philo. Li Flacc, § 5 and 6 ; Jos. Ant. XVIII. viii. 1 : XIX. v. 2, B, 
J. II. xviii. 7, etc. ; VII. x, 1. Papyr as printed in Notices ei ExiraiU 
XVIIL, 2d part, p. 383, etc. 

18. Dion Cass., XXX VIL 17 ; LX. 6. Philo. Leg. ad Gaium, § 23. Jos. 
Ant XIV. X. 8 ; XVII. xi. 1 ; XVIII. iii. 5 ; Hor. Sat. 1. w. 1 42- 
143; V. 100; ix. 69, &c. ; Pers. 5, 179-184; Saet. Lih. 36; Claud 
25; Domit. 12; Juv. iii. 14; vi. 542, &c. 

19. Pro. Flac. 28. 

20. Jos. Ant. XIV. x. ; Suot. Jul. 84. 

21. Suet. Lib. 36; Tac. Ann. ii. 85; Jos. Ant. XVIIL iii. 4, 5. 

22. Dion Cass. LX. 6. 

24. Jos. B. J., VII. iii. 3. 

25. Seneca, fragment in Aug. Be Civ. Dei, vi. 11 ; Rutilius Numatianus 
i. 395, &c. ; Jos. Contr. Apion, ii. 39; Juv. Sat. vi. 544; xiv. 96, &e, 

26. Philo. In Flacc. § 5; Tac. Hist. v. 4, 5, 8; Dion. Cass. xlix. 22; 
Juv. xiv. 103 ; Dlod. Sic. fragm. 1 of lib. xxxiv. and iii. of lib. xl. ; 
Philostr. Vit. Apol. v. 33 ; L Thess. ii. 15. 

17. Jos. Ant. XIV. X. ; XVL vi. ; XX. viii. 7 ; Philo. In Flacc. and Le- 
gatio ad Caium. 

28. Jos. A7it. XVIII. iii. 4, 3 Juv. vi. 543, &c. 

29. Jos. Contr. Apion, passim; passages above cited from Tacitus and 
Diodorus Siculus; Trog. Pomp. (Justin), xxsvi. 411 ; Ptolem. Ile- 
phestion or Ch3unu^, in Script. Poet. Hist. Gra3ci of Westermann, 
p. 194. Cf. Quintilian, IIL vii. 2. 

30. Cic. Pro Flacco, 28; Tac. Hist. v. 5; Juv. xiv. 103-104; Diodorus 
Siculus and Philostratus, u. s. ; Rutilius Namatianus i. 383, &c. 

31. Martial, iv. 4; Amm. Marc. xxii. 5. 

32. Suet. A7j,g. 76; Horace Sat. 1. ix. 69, &c. ; Juv. iii. 13-16, 296; vi. 

156-160, 542-547; xiv. 96-107; Martial. Epigr. iv. 4; vii. 29, 34, 
54; xi. 95; xii. 57 ; Ratilius Numat. 1. c. Jos. Contra Apion, ii. 13; 
PhHo. Leg. ad Caium. § 26-28. 

33. Martial Epigr. xii. 57. 

34. Juvenal, Sat. iii. 14; vi. 542. 

35. Juvenal, Sat. iii. 296; vi. 543, &c. ; Martial, Epigr. i. 42; xii. 57. 

36. Martial, P]pigr. i. 42 ; xii. 57 ; Statins Silves, I. vi. 73-74, and Forccl- 

lini on word sulphuratam. 

37. Horace, Sat. I. v. 100; Juvenal, Sat. vi. 544, &c., xiv. 96, &c; ApuL 
Florida, i. 6.' 



THE APOSTLES. 



38. Dion Cass. Ixviii. 32. 

39. Tac. Hist. v. 5, 9 ; Dion Cass. Ixvii. 14. 

40. Hor. Sat. I. ix. 70 ; Judce^m Apella, appears to be a joke of the 
same kind (see the scholiasts Acron and Porphj-rion upo i Ilor. 
Sat. I. V. 100) ; compare the passage from S. Anitus, Poemata^ v. 3G4, 

'I cited by ForceUini on the word Apeha, but which I do not find either 
I in the editions of iliis Father or in the ancient Latin manuscript, 

Bibl. Imp. No. 11320, as given by the learned lexicographer; Juv. 

Sat. xiv. 99, &c. ; Martial Epigr. vii. 29, 34, 54; xi. 95. 
4J. Jos. Contr. Apion ii. 39; Tac. Ann. ii. 85, Hist. v. 5; Hor. Sat. I. iv 

142, 143; Juv. xiv. 96, &c ; Dion Cass, xxxvii. 17 ; Ixvii. 14. 

42. Martial, Epigr. i. 42 ; xii. 57. 

43. Juv. Sat. vi. 54G, &c. 

44. Jos. Ant. xviii. iii. 5 ; xx. 11,4; B. J. IT. xx. 2 ; Act xiiL 50 ; xvi. 14 

45. Loc. cit. 

46. Jos. Ant, XX. 11, 5; iv. 1. 

47. Passages already cited. Strabo shows much greater justice and peae 
tratiou (xvi. II, 34, &c.) Couip. Dion. Cass, xxxvii. 17, &c. 

48. Tac. Hist. v. 5. 

49. Jos. Contr. Apion ii. 39. 

50. Martial, xii. 57. 

51. Jos. Ani. xiv. x. 6, 11, 14. 

52. Eccl. X. 25, 27. 

53. Rom. i. 24, &c. 

54. Zach. viii. 23. 

55. Hor. Sat. L ix. 69 ; Pers. v. 179, &c. Juv. Sat. vi. 159 ; xiv. 96, &c. 

56. Contr. Apion ii. 39. 

57. Pers. v. 179-184 ; Juv. vi. 157-160. The remarkable preoccupation 
about Judaism which may be observed in the Roman writers of the 
first century, especially the satirists, arises from this circumstance. 

58. Juv. Sat. iii. 62, &c. 

59. Cic. De Prov. consul, 5. 

60. The children whose appearance had most pleased me on my first 
visit, I found four years later, ugly, vulgar, and stupid. 

61. Harofj /f Oe IS a very frequent formula in the inscriptions of the Sy- 
rians (Corp. Inscr. Gnec. Nos. 4449, 4450, 4451, 4463, 4479, 4480, 
6015. 

62. Corp. Inscr. Grsec. Nos. 4474, 4475, 5936 ; Mission de PUnic>\ 1. ii. c. 
ii. (in press), inscription of Abeda. Comp. Corpus, Nos. 227', 5853. 

63. Zrr? . c, ;Ti..oai^KK,v0«arr)s, ,iEy(o-r,K, Bcoi aaro 'iTTr,'-^ CorTDUP I) .-SCr Gf. 

Nos. 4500, 4501, 4502, 4503, 6012; Lepsius, Df^nkra'«ler, t xii. foL 
100. No. 590. Mission de Phenicie, p. 103, 104 

64. I have developed this in the Journal Asiatiqua for Fi^bruary 1859, p 

259, &c., and in Mission de Pheniae, 1. II. c. ii. 



THK APOSTLES. 



65, Syrian code in Laud, Anecdoia Syriaca^ i. p. 152, and diflercnt fact3 
which I have witnessed. 

66. Born in Haran. 

67 See i'orceliini, word Sijrus. This word designates Orientals generally. 
Leblaut, Iitscript. Cinvt. de la Gaule, i. p. 207, 323, 329. 

68. Juvenal, iii. 62-63. 

69. Such is at this day the temperament of the Syrian Christian. 

70 Inscriptions in Mem. de la Soc. des Antiquaires de Fr. t. xxviii. 4, &c. 
Leblant, Inscript. Chret. de la Gaule, i. p. cxliv. 207, 324, &c. 353, &a 
ii. 259, 459, &c. 

tl. The Maronites colonize still in nearly all the Levant like the Jews, 

Armenians, and G-reeks, though on a smaller scale. 
73. Cic. De Offic. i 42 ; Dion. Hal. ii. 28; ix. 28. 

73. See the characters of slaves iu Plautus and Terence. 

74. II. Cor. xii. 9. 

75. Tacit. Ann. ii. 85. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

1. Tacit. Ann. i. 2; Florus, iv. 3; Pomponius iu the Digest, 1; L Tit. 
ii., fr. 2. 

2. Heiicoii. Apelles, Euceres, etc. The Oriental kings were considered 
by the Romans to surpass in tyranny the worst of the emperors. 
Dion. Cassias lix. 24. 

3. See inscription of the Parasit? of Antony in the Compies Rendas de 
I' Acad, des lancv. et B. L., 1864, p. 166, etc. Comp. Tacit. Ana. iv. 
55, 56. 

4. See for example the funeral oration on Turia by her husband. Q. Lu- 
cretius Vespillo, of wiiich ihe complete epigraphic text wa.s first pub- 
lished by Mommsen in Meinoires de V Academie de Berlin. 1S!63, 
p. 455, &c. Compare funeral oration on Murdia (Orelli, I user. Lat. 
No. 486U), and on Ma ilda by the emperor Adrian {Mr.in. d'i C Acad, 
de Berlin, u. s. 483, &c.). We are too nuich preoccupied by pa.-<sages 
of the Latin satirists in which the vices of women are siiarply ex- 
posed. It is as if we were to design a general tableau of the morals 
of the seventeenth centurj'' from Mfithurin, Regnier, and Buileau. 

5. Orelli. Nos. 2647, &c., especially 2677, 2742, 4530, 4860; Ilenzen, 
Nos. 738:!, &c., especially No. 7406; Renier, Inscr. de TAlgeri"?, No. 
1987. They may have been false epithets, but tliey prove at least 
the estimation of virtue. 

6. Plin. Epist. vii. 19; ix. 13; Appian, Bell. Civ. iv. 36. Panni.\ twice 
fohowed to exile her husband, llelvidius Priscus, and was ba.\isLed 
a tnird time after his death. 

7. The heroism of Arria is well known. 

15* 



816 



THE APOSTLES. 



8. Suet. Aug. 73 ; Fun. Orat. on Turia, i., line .30 

9. lb. 31. 

10. The too severe opinion of Paul (Rom. i. 24, &c.) is explicable in the 
same way. Paul was not acquainted witli the higiier social life uf 
lvou)e. Besides, these clerical invectives are not to be tai^en lite- 
rally. 

11. Sen. Ep. xii., xxiv., xxvi., Iviii., Ixx. ; De Ira. iii. 15. De Tranq. 
anim. lo. 

12. Apoc. xvii. ; Cf. Sen. Ep. xcv. 16, &c. 

13. Suet. Auff. 48. 

14. The inscriptions contain countless examples. 

15. Plut. Gr;ec. Ger. Eeipubl xv. B-4 ; An seni sit ger. resp., passim. 

16. Jos. Ant. xiv., x. 22. 23; Comp, Tacit. Ann. iv. 55, 56. llutiliua 
Isuuiatianus, li/ji. i. O:^, &c. 

17. " Tirunensa romautc pacis majestas.'' Plin. Ilisi. Nat. xxvii. 1. 

18. ^^lius Arist. Eloije de /io?7ie, passim ; Plut. Fortune des Romains; 

Piiilo. Leg. ad Gaium, § 21, 22, 39, 40. 

19. Dion. Hal. Antiq. Rom. i., comm. 

20. Plut. Solon. 20. 

21. See Athen. xii. 68; yElian, Var. Hist. ix. 12; Suidas, word ETr'ixpvpoii, 
11. Tacit. Ann. i. 2. 

23. Stud,y the character of Euthypliron in Plato. 

24. Diocr. Laert. ii. 101, 116; v. 5, 37, 3^; ix. 52; Athen. xiii. 92; 
XV. 52; yElian, Var. ILst. ii. 23; iii. 36; Plut. Pericles, 32; De 
riac. Piiilos. I., vii. 2; Diod. Sic. XIIJ., vi. 7; Aristoph. in Aves, 
1073. 

25. Particularly under Vespasian, as in the case of Helvidius Prisons. 

26. We shall show later that these persecutions, at least until that of 

Decius, have been much exaggerated. 

27. The early Christians were in fact very respectful towards Roman 
authority. Rom. xiii. i.. &e. ; I. Peter iv. 14, 16. As to St. Luke, 
see the Introduction to this work. 

28. Diog. Laert. vii. 1, 3 >, 33; Euseb. Prepar. Evang. xv. 15, and in 
general the De Legihus and De Ojfinis of Cicero. 

29. Terence, Htautord. T. i. 77, Cic. De Finibus Bon. ct Mai., v. 23; Pariit. 

Oral, 16, 24: Ovid, Fasti, ii. 684; Lucian vi. 54. &c. ; Sen.. Epist, 
xlviii , xcv 51, &c. ; De Ira, i. 5; iii. 43; Arrian. Dissert. Epict. I. 
ix. 6; ii. v. 26; Plut. Roman. 2; Alexander, i. 8, 9. 

30. A''irg. Eclog. iv. ; Sen. Medea, 375, &c. 

31. Tac. Ann. ii. 85; Suet. Tib 35; Ovid. Fast ii. 497-514. 

32. The in.scriptions for women contain the most touching expressions. 

" Mater oumium hominuu), parens oinuil)US subveniens," in Reiner, 
Iriscr. de rAlgeric\ No. 1987, Ce)Mip ibi(K No. 2756; Mommsen, In.scr. 
R. N, No. 1431. 'MMiobus virtuiis et caslitatis exemplis." Not. ti 



THE APOSTLES. 



347 



Mem., de la iSV. de ConstdJiUne, 186-"), p. 158 See i iccription of 
UiijaiiiUa it) Gnerin, Vuy. Archeol. iti Tunis, i.- 289, Mud a beautiful 
on', Oi'elli. Xo. 4 j4.S. Some of these texts are sub.-cqiieut to the first 
oenmry: bat' the sentiments they express were not new when they 
were written. 

33. Table-Talk I., v. 1 ; Demosth. 2; tlie Dialogue on Love, 2; and Con- 
sol, ad Uxorein. 

34. " Caritas generis liumani." C'\c. D:i Flnibm, v. 23. "Homo sacra res 
hoinini, ' Sen. Epist. xcv. .38. 

35. Sen, Epist. xxxi., xlvii, ; De Benef.. iii. 1'^, Sec. 

36. Tac. Ann. xiv. 42. &c ; Suet. Claud 2o; Dion Cass. Ix. 29; Plin Ep. 
viii 16: Insc". Linuv. col. 2 line.s, 1—4 (M ornmsen De Coll et SodaL 
Rom., ad calcetu); Sen. Rhet. Controv. iii. 21; vii. 6; Sen. Phil. 
Epist xlvii ; De Benef iii., IS, &c , Columella. De re rmiica, i. 8; 
Pint, the Eider. 5; Dc: Ira, 11. 

37 Epist. xlvii., 13. 

38. C.ito. Dere ruHtica, 58, 59, 101 : Pint Cato, 4, 5. Compare the severe 

m.ixiius of Eeclesiasticu-; xxxiii. 25, &c 
39 Tac. Ann. xiv. 60; Dion Cass, xlvii 10: Ix. 16; Ixii. i:^; Ixvi 14. 

Suet. Caius, 16; Appia, Bell. Civ. iv., from ch. xvii. (especially ch. 

xxxvi. &c.), to ch. li Juv. vi. 476 &g., describes the manners of the 

worst class. 

40. Ilor. Sat. i. vi. 1. &e. ; Cic. Epi.st. iii. 7 ; Sen Rhet. Cjatrov. i. 6. 

41. Suet. Caius, 15, 16; Claud 13, 23, 25; i^ero, 16; Diou Cass. Ix. 

25-29. 

42. Tac. Ann vi 17; comp iv. 6. 

43. Tac Ann xiii. oit, 51 ; Suet N'ero, 10. 

44. Epitaph of the jeweller. Evhodus (hominis boni, misericordis, amatis 
pauperis). Corp Li<cr L it. Xo. 10-7. and inscription of the ago of 
Augustus (Cf Egger, Mtm. d' ILstoirt tt de Plid , p. 351, &c.); Perrot, 
Exf)l-r)'ation dt la Gala i'', &c., p 118, 119, n-r<,)V')i'? 'piXznvTa - Funeral 
Oration of Matilda by Adrian {Mem. de [ Arad de Berlin for 18H3, 
p 489); Mommsen. Inscr R -irni Xeap. Xos. 1 43 !, 2863, 4830 ; Seneca 
Rhet., Coatrov I i.; iii 19; iv. 27, viii. 6: Sen Phil. De Ekia ii. 5. 6. 
De Benef. i 1; ii. 11; iv. 14; vii. ;>1. Cjmp ire Leblant Inscr. Chi-et. 
de la Gaule, ii. p. 23, &c ; Orelli, No. 4657, Fea Fraiam de Frasti 
Consol, p. 90 ; R. Garrucci, Ciuutera degli am. Ebreiy p. 44:. 

45. Corp. laser. G-rsec , No. 2758 

46. Ibid. Nos. 2191 b. 2511, 2759 b 

47. It must be borne in mind that Corinth in the Roman epoch was a 
colony of foreigners, formed upon the site of the ancient city by Cifisar 
and Augustus. 

48. Lucian. Demonax, 87. 

49. Dion Cassius, Ixvi. 15. 

50. See ^lius Arislides. Treatise against Comedy, 751, &c., ed. Dindorf. 

51. It is worthy of note that in several cities of Asia Minor the remains 



348 



TJIE APOSTLES. 



of the ancient theatres are at tliis day haunts of debauchery. Co up 
Ov. Amor. i. 89, &c. 

52. OrelU-tlenzen Xos. 1172, 3362, &c., 0669; Guerin, Voy. en T misie, 

11, p. 59; Borghesi, (Euvres Cumplttes, iv. p. 269, &c; E Desjardius, 
De talmlis aliineutariis (Paris 1854); Aurelius Victor. Epitome, 
Nerva ; Plin. Epist. i. 8; vii. 18. 

53. Inscriptions in Desjardins, op. cit. pars ii. cap. 1. 

54. Suet. Aug 41, 46; Dion Cass li. 21 ; Iviii. 2. 

55. Tao. Ann. ii. 87; vi. 13; xv. Suet. Anor. 41, 42; Claud. 18. Comp. 
Dion Cass. Ixii, 18 ; Orelli, No. 3358 &c. ; Heuzen, 6662, &c. ; ForcelUui, 
article Tessera frumentana. 

56. Odyss. vi. 207. 

57. Eurip. Suppl. v. 773, &c. ; Aristotle Rlietor. II. v. iii. and Nicomachus 
viii. 1 ; IX. x. See Stobeus Florilegus xxxvii. cxiii. and in general 
the fragments of Menander, and the Greek comedians. 

58. Aristotle Polit. VI. iii. 4. 5. 

59. Cic. Tusc. iv. 7-8 ; Sen. De Clem. ii. 5. 6. 

60. Papyrus at the Louvre, No. 37, col. 1. line 21. Notices et Extraita 
xviii 2d part, p. 'Z98. 

01. Y. ante. 

62. Apoc. xvii. &c. 

63. Virg. Ec. iv. Georg. i. 463, &c. ; Horace Od. I. ii; Tac. Ann. vi. 12; 
Suet. Aug. 31. 

64. See for example De Republ. iii. 22, cited and preserved by Lactantiua 
Instit. div. vi. 8, 

65. See the admirable letter, xxxi. to Lucilius. 

66. Suet. Vesp. 18; Dion Cass. t. vi. p. 558 (edit. Sturz); Euseb. Chron. 
A D. f^9. Plin. Epist. i. 8 ; Henzen, Suppl to Orelli, p. 124, No. 1 172. 

67. Funeral Oration of Turia, i. lines 30-31. 

68. See first book of Valerius Maximus; Julius Obsequens on Prodigies; 
and Discours Sacres of ^lius Aristides. 

69. Augustus (Suet. Aug. 90-92) and even Ctesar, it is said, (but I doubt,) 
(Plin. Hist Nat. xxviii. iv. 7) did not escape it. 

70. Manilius, Hygin. translations from Aratus. 

71. Cic Pro Archia, 10. 

72. Suet. Claud. 25 

73. Jos. Ant. XIX. v. 3 

74. Bereschiih rabba ch. Ixv. fol. 65b; Du Cange, word matricularius. 

75. Cic. De Legibus, ii. 8; Vopiscus. Aurelian, 19. 

76 Religio sine superstitione, Orat. fun. Turia i. lines 30-31. See Plu. 
de Superstit. 

TT. See Melito. Jlipl -t\riOe(:i;, in Spicilegium Syr'acum of Cureto, p. 43, or 
Spicil. Sokftmense of dom Pitra, t. ii. p. xli., to get a good idea of 
the impression made by it upon the Jews and Christians. 



THK APOSTLES. 



319 



18 Suet. Aug. .52; Dion Cass li 20; Tac Ann. i 10; tVurel. Victor 
Ceas, i. Appian. Bell. C'w. v. 132; Jos. 13. J., I. xxi. 2, :5, 4, 7. 
Noris, Genolaphia Pisdna^ dissert, i. cap. 4; Kalendafiuni Cuinauuin^ 
in Curpu.s In.sc!\ Ln. i. p. yio; Eckliel. Doclriaa Num. Vet. pars 2d. 
vol. vi. p. 100 124, &c. 

79 Tac. Ann. iv. 55-56. Comp. Valer. Maxim, prol. 

80 Ante, p. 193, &c. 

81 Ciriiith. the only Grecian tov/n which was considerabl}' Christianized 
during the tirst century, was no longer at this period a Hellenic city. 

82. ITeracl. Corn. Comp. Cic. l)e Nat. Deorum, iii. 23, 25, 60, 62, 64. 

83. Plut. Consol ad ux. 10; Be sera vumiyds vindtda, 22; Heuzey. 
Mission de Macedo me, p. 128 Beviie Archto/ogique. April. 1864, p. 282. 

84. Lucret, i. 63, &c. ; Sallust. Catil. 62 ; Cic. De Nat. Deorum. ii 24, 28. 
De DivinaL ii. 33 35. 57 ; De Harwpicorum Refipomis, passim ; Tuscul. 
i. 16; Juvenal, Sat, ii. 149, 152; Sen. ICpist. xxiv. 1/. 

85. Sua cuique civitati religio est, nostra nobis. Cic. Pro Flacco, 28. 

86. Cic. De Nat Deorum, i. 30. 42; De Divinar,. ii. 12, 33, ;^5, 72. De 
Harusp. Resp. 6. etc.; Liv. i. 19, Quint Curt. iv. 10. Plut Di 2)lac. 
pJuL I. vii. 2; Diod. Sic. I. ii. 2. Varro. in Aug. De civit. Dei, iv. 31. 
32; vi. 6. Dion lialic ii. 20. viii. 5 Valer. Maxim. I. ii. 

87 Cic. De Divinat. ii. 15; Juvenal, ii. 149, &c. 

88. Tac. Ann xi. 15. Plin. Epist. x. 97. suh fin. Serapin in Plut. De 
Fyt/iice Oraruiis. Comp. De EI apnd Del^ihos, init. See also Valer. 
JSlaxim I., passim. 

89. Juv. Sat. vi. 489, 527, &c. Tac. Ann. xi. 15. Comp. Lucian Gmv. 
Deorum ; TeriuU. Apolog. 6. 

90. Jos. Ant. xviii lii. 4; Tac. Ann. ii. 85; Le Bas, Inscr. part v. No. 395. 

91. Plut. De Pyth. orac. 25. 

92. See Lucian, Akxander sen psseudomantis and De morte Peregrini. 

93. Sen. Epist. xii xxiv. Ixv. Inscr. Lanuv. 2d col. lines 5-6 ; Orelli, 
4404. 

94. Dion Cass. Ixvi. 13; Ixvii. 13; Suet Domit. 10. Tna. Agricola. 2.45; 
Plin Epid. 111. ii; Philostr. Vit. Apollon. I. vii. passim. Eu-5eb. 
Chron. a.d. 90. 

95. 1 ion Cass Ixii. 29. 

96. Arrian, Dissert, de Epictet. I. ii. 21. 

97. Ibid. I. XXV. 22. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

1. Val. Max., I. iii ; Liv. XXXIX. 8-18; Cic, De Lecfihus, II. 8; Dion 
Ilalic, IL 20; Dion Cass., XL. 47; XLII. 26 ; Tertull., Apol 6; 
Adv. naiiones, I. 10. 



850 



THE ArOSTLES. 



2. Pro-pert., IV. i. 17; Lueian. VIII. 831; Dion Oasss., XLVII. 15 
Ariiub ii. 7H. 

3. Val. Maxim. I. iii. 3. 

4. Dion Cass. XLVII. 15 

5. Jos , XLV. X. Corap. Cic, Pro Fla.cco, 28. 

6. Suet., Aug., 31, 93; Diou Cass,, lii. 36. 

7. Suet., Auq., 93. 

8. Diou Cass., LVt. 6. 

9. Jos. AnL XVI. vi. 

10. Ibid. XVI. vi. 2. 

11. Diou Cass., Lfl. 36. 

12. .los., B. .J., V. xiii. 6. Comp. Suet, Aug, 93. 

13. Suet. Tib., 3fi; Tac, Ann., ii , 8.=); Jos., Aut. XVTT , iii, 4, 6 \ Pliilo., 
Ill Fiacciuii, § 4; Le<^' ad Cy.i'uun, § 24; Sen. Epist. cviii. '22. Tlio 
asseriiou of Terludijui (Apol. 5), repeated by otlier ecclesiastical 
v\'i iters, that Til!)erius iiad loruifd tlie iutention of placing Jesus Christ 
on the list of gods, is not worth discussion. 

14. Diou Cass., Ix. 6. 

15. Tacit. Aim., xi. 15, 

1«. Diou Cass., Jx. G; Suet., Claud. 25; Acts xviii. 2. 
1 7. Dion Cass., Ix. 6, 

18. Jos. Ant., XIX. V. 2; XX. vi. 3; B. J. II. xii. 7. 
lit. Suet. Nero 56. 

20. Tac. Ann. xv. 44 ; Suet. Nero. 16. This will be developed hereafter. 

21. Tac. Ann. xiii. 32. 

22 Coinp Dion Cass. Doniit. sub fin; Suet. Domit. 1.5 This distinction 
is formally made in tlie digest, I. xlvii , tit. xxii., de Coll. et Corp. i. 3. 
23. Cic. Pro Flacco, 28. 

24 This distinction is indicated in the AcU xvl 20, 21 ; Cf. xviii. 13. 

25. Cic. Pro Flacco, 28; Juv. xiv. :00&c; Tac. Hist, v., 4, 5: Plin. 
Epist. X , 97 ; Di(;n Cas.s. L. ii. 36. 

26. Jos. B. J. VII. V. 2. 

27. ^lius Arist. Pro Serapide, 53. Jul. Orat iv., p 136, of Spanlieim's 

Ed. and the f^cul])tures copied by Leblaut in tiie Bull, de la Soc des- 
Ant. de Fr , 1.S59, \k 19 -ly3. 

28. Tac. Ann. ii. 85; Suet. Tib. 37; Jos. Ant. XVIII. iii. 4-5; letter of 
Adrian in Vopisc. Vit. Saturn, 8. 

29 Dion Cass, xxxvii, 17. 

30, See the inseri|itioiis collected in the Rev, Archpol. Nov. 1864, 391, 
&c ; Dec, IriGi. p. 460, &c ; June, 1865, p. 4 51-452, and p. 497, 
&r>..; Sept., 1,S(;.5, p 214. &c. ; Apr., 1 8HH ; Ross. Inscr. Gr:ec. ined. 
fasc. ii., No. -.Si'. 291, 2'.i2 ; Hamilton, Researclu-s in Asia Minor, 
Vol. ii., No. 301. Corp. laser. Gvmc. Nos, 120, 126; 2525 b. 2562; 



tiih: apostles. 



S51 



Rlianjrahe xXntiq IT. -Hen No 811. TIenzen, No OOS-i ; Vir!>. Kel v., 

31). Comp ilrii p')cr;)lioii fjex. nrt Eo.i^tsr k. FestU8 art. Tiiiastas; 

Digest XLVIT , xxii., de Coil, et Corp. 4; Plin. Epi.st. x, 93, 9-i. 
31. Aristot. Mor. Nicom. VIIL, ix., 5. Plut. Quest. Grrtec 44. 
32 Wescher, .Archives des missions scieiitif. ■ 2d series, v., i, p. 482, and 

Kev. Arcli.. Sept , 1865, p. 221, 22i. Cf. Aristot. CEcououi. ii. 3. 

Strab. IX., 1, 15. Corp. iriscr. gr , No. 2271, lines 13-14. 

33. i\A)73a)ro(. 

34. IvAr'jf. The ecclesiastical etN'mology of vX is different, and im- 
plies an aUu-^ion to the position of the tribe of Levi in Israel. But it 
is not impossi))le that the word was primarily derived !'rom the Greek 
confraternitit'S (cf Act i. 25, 26; L Petri, v. 3. Clem Alex, in 
Eiiseb II. K. iii. 23). M. Wescher finds among the dignitaries of 
these S'icieti^-s an >-i'..-'.T:, (Rr-viie Ar^'h., April, IS.(36V See ante, p. 
Sn. The assemblv was also called -u.'^ty <yi'i ( Llcviie Arch., Sept., I8tj5, 
p. '21G: Pollux- 1 v. viii , 14:^;. 

35. Corp. inscr. Gr. No. 126. Comp. Pvcv. Arch. Sept. 1865, p. 216. 

36. Wescher in Revue Archeol. Dec. 1364, p. 460, &c. 

37. See ante, p. 338, note 2. 

38. The Greek confraternities were not entirely exempt. laser, in Re- 

VUG Archeol, Dec. 1 864, p. 462, &c. 

39. Digest XLVil. xxii. de CoU. et Corp. 4. 

40. Liv. XXIX. 10, &c. OreU. and Heuzen, Inscr. Lat. c. v. § 21. 

41. Dion. Cass. liL 36; Ix. 6. 

42. Liv. XXXIX. 8-18. Comp. decree in Corp. Inscr. Lat. I. p. 43-44. 

Cf. Cic. De Legibus ii. 8. 

43. Cic. Pro Sext. 25; In Pis. 4; Asconins, in Cornelianara 75 (edit. 

Orelli); In Pison. p. 7-8; Dion. Cass. XXX VIIL 13, 14; Digest. 
III. iv. Quod cujusc. 1 ; XL VII. xxii. do Coll et. Corp. passim. 

44. Suet. Domit. 1 ; Dion. Cass. XLVII. 15; LX. 6, LXVL 24; pa.s3agca 

of TertuUian and Arnobius b Jbre cited. 

45. Suet. Cass. 42 ; Aug; 32 ; Jos. Ant. XVL x. 8 ; Dion. Cass. LIL 36. 

46. "Kaput ex. S. C. P. K. Quibu'^ co're, convenire, collegiumque habere 
liceat. Qui stipern menstruara coiifjrre voleut in fimera, ii. in colle- 
gium cocant. neque sub specie e'us colleginisi semel in mense vo- 
cant confereudi causa undo defuiieti sepeliantur." Inscr. Lanuv. 
1st col. lines 10-13 in Mommsen, De collegiis et sodalitiis Roma- 
norum (Kiliae, 1843), p. 81-82 an 1 ad calcem. Cf. Digest. XLVIL 
xxii. de'CoU. et. Corp. 1 ; Tertull. Apol. 39. 

47. Inscr. Lanuv. 2d col. lines 3, 7 ; Digest. XLVII. xxiL de CoU. et Corp. 3. 

48. Digest. XLVIL xi. de Extr. crim. 2. 

49. Ibid. XLVII. xxii. de Coll. et. Corp. 1 and 3. 

50. lleuzey. Mission de Macedoine, p. 71, &d ; Orelli, Inscr. No. 4093 

51. Orelii, 2409 ; MelchioretP. Visconti, SiUoge d'iscrizioni antiche, p. 6. 

52. See article relative to colleges of Esculapins and Ilygiens, of Jupiter 



352 



Tllb: APOSTLE^. 



Corniuus, and of Dian and Antinous, in Mommsen, op. 3it. p. 93 
&c. Comp. Orelli, liiscr. Lat. Nos. 1710, &c., 2394, 2395, 2413, 4075, 
4079, 4107, 4207, 4938, 5044; Mominseu, op. cit. p. 96, 113, 114; 
de Rossi, Bulletin di Archeol. Cristiana, 2d year, No. 8. 

53. luscr. Lanuv., 1st col, lines 6-7; Orelli. 2270; de Kossi, Bullett. di 
archeol. crist. 2d year. No. 8. 

54. luscr. Lanuv., 2d col., lines 11-13; Orelli, 4420. 

55. Inscr. Lanuv., 1st col. lines 3, 9, 21; 2d col. lines 7-17; Mommsen, 
luscr. regni Neap. 2559; Marini. Atti. p. 598; Muratori, 491, 7 ; 
Mommsen. De coll. et sod. p. 109, &c. 113, Corny. L Cor. xi, 20, &c. 
The president of the Christian Churches was called by the pagans 
dtarrdfjxrii. Lucieu, PeregTiuus, IL 

56. Inscr. Lanuv. 2d col. line 7. 

57. Inscr. Lanuv. 2d col. lines 24-25. 

58. Ibid. 2d col. lines 26-29. Cf. Corpus Inscr. Gr. No. 126. 

59. OreUi, Inscr. Lat Nos. 2399, 2400, 2405, 4093, 4103. Mommsen, De 
Coll. et Sod; Rom. p. 97 ; Ileuzey u. s. Compare at tliis day the little 
cemeteries of the societies at Rome. 

60. Ilor. Sat, L viii. 8. 

61. Funeraticium. 

62. Inscr. Lanuv. 1st col., lines 24, 25, 32. 

63. lb. 2d col. lines 3, 5. 

64. Cic. De Offic. 1, 17. Schol. Bibb, ad Cic. Pro Archia, x. 1. Comp. 
Plut. De frat. amore, 7 ; Digest XL VII. xxii. de Coll. et Corp. 4. 
In a Roman inscription the founder of a sepulchre provides that 
only those of his own faith shall be buried there, ad rdigionem per- 
tinentes meam (de Rossi, Bull, di Archeol. Crist. 53d year No. 7, p. 64. 

65. Tertull. Ad Scap. 3; de Rossi, op. cIt. 3d year, No. 12. 

66. St. Justin, i^pol. 1, 67; Tertull. Apollog. 39. 

67. Ulpi. Fragm xxii. G. Diuestlll iv. Quod cujusc. 1; XLVT. 1, de 
Fid; et Maud 22. XLVIl. ii. de Ftulis, HI ; XLVIl. xxii. de Coll. et 
Corp. 1, 3; Gruter. 322, 3, 4; 424, 12; Oielii. 4080: Marini. Atti. 
p. 95. Muratori, 51(5, 1 ; Mem. de la Soc. des Antiq. de Fr. XX. p. 78. 

68. Dig. XivVir, xxii.de Coll. et Corp. passim; Inscr. Lanuv. 1st col 
lines 10-13; Marini. Atti. p. 552; Muratori, 520, 3; Orelli 407.% 
4115, 1567. 2797. 3140, 3913; Heuzen 6633, 6745; Mommsen op. 
cit p. 80, etc. 

69. Digest XLVIL xi de Extr, crim. 2. 

79. Ibid. XLVIL xxiL de Coll et Corp. 2 ; XLVIIL iv. ad Leg. Jul. ma- 
jest. 1. 

71. Dion Cass. LX. 6. Comp. Suet. Nero 16. 

72. See administrative correspondence of Pliny and Trajan, Plin. Epist. 
X. 43, 93, 94, 97, 98. 

73. " Perraittitur teruiioribus stipera menstrnara conferre, dum tamen 
sseniel in meuse coeaut, no sub pra;textu liujusuiodi illicitum collegium 



TffE A PCS PL KS. 



353 



coeant (Dig-. XLVIT. xxii. de CoU. et C<>rp. 1)." "Strvos quoqne 
licet in coUej^io tenuiorum recipi voleutibus dotiiiuis {^ibid. 3)." Of. 
Pliii. Epist. X. 94 ; TertuU. Apol. 39. 
•74. Disrest I. xii. de Off pm;f. urbi, 1. § 14 (Of. Mommsen op. cit p. 127); 
Jll.i V. Quod cujusc. 1 ; XLVII. xx. de ('oil. et Oorp 3. The excel- 
lent Marcus Aurelius extended as fur as possible the right of associa 
tion. Dio-. XXXIV. v. de Rebus dubiis, 20 ; XL. iii. de Mauumia- 
siouibus, 1 ; XLVII. xxii. de Coll. et Oorp. 1. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

1. See de Rossi, Bull, di Arch. Crist 3d year, IsTos 3, 5, 6, 12, Eg. Pom- 
ponia Grjecina (Tac. Ann. xiii. 32) under Nero as already charac- 
teristic ; but it is not certain that she was a Christian. 

2. See de Rossi, Rmna Sotteranea T. p. 309; and pi xxi. No. 12 and the 
epigraphic collations of Leon Renier, Conipt^^s Rend, de I'Acad. des In- 
vscr! et B. L 18(50, p. 289, etc., and of Creuly, Rev. Arch. Jan. lbG6, 
p. 63-H4. Conip. de Rossi, Bull. 3d year, No. 10, p. 77-79. 

3. I. Cor. i. 26, etc. ; Jac. ii. 5, etc. 

4. AloE - y c. See relation of martyrdom of Polycarp. g 3, 9, 12. 
Ruinart. Acta sincera, p. 31, etc. 

5. Ebionim. See Vie de Jesus. Jac. ii. 5, etc. Comp. rw Tj/tv ar(, 

Matth. V. 3. 

6. See anfe. 

7. Tnc. Ann. XV. 44, Plin. Epist. X. 97; Suet. Nero Ifi; Domit. 15; 

Philopati'is, passim. Rulil. Nurnat. 1, 369, etc.; 440, etc. 

8. John XV. 17, etc.; xvi. 8, etc., 33; xvii. 15, etc. 

9. James i. 27. 

10. I allude to the e.s.=5ential and primitive tendencies of Oliristianity, not 
to the transformed Christianity now preaclied, especially that of tlie 
Jesuits. 

11. See history of the origin of Babism by M. de Gobineau. Les Rdig. ei 
les PhiJox. dans I' A sit Ccntrale (Paris, ISG.j), p. 141, etc.; and by 
Mirza Kazem-beg in the JdutikiI AsKiiiqne (in press) I myself have 
received infoi'mation from two individuals at Constantinople, who 
were personally mixed in the aftairs of Babism, which coutirms the 
narration of these two stivdiifs. 

12. M. de Gobineau p. 301, etc. 

13. Another detail which I have from original sources is as follows: Sev- 
eral of the sectaiies. to compel them to retract, were tied to the 
moulhs of camion, vviih a lighted slow-match attached. The offef 
was made to them to cut off the match if they would renounce Bab. 
In reply, they only stretched out their hands towards tlie creeping 
spark, and besfMaght it to hasten and cousunuuate their happiness. 




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CHARLES DICKENS' WORKS. 



A New lldition. i 

Among the numerous editions of the works of this ^eatest of Fn^j 
Ush Novelists, there has not been until now one that entirely satisfies t)ie i 

public denxind Without exception, they each have some 

strong distinctive objection, . . . either the shape and dimensionF 
of the volumes are unhandy — or, the type is smrll and indistinct or, 
the paper is thin and poor — or, the illustrations [if they have any] are 
ansatisfactory — or, the binding is bad — or, the price is too high, 

A new edition is no7o, however, published by G. W. Carleton & Co. 
of New York, which, it is believed, wall, in every respect, completely 
satisfy the popular demand. . . . It is known as 

"Carletoii's New Illustrated Edition." 

The size and form is most convenient for holding, . . the type is 
entirely new, and of a clear and open character that has received the 
approval of the reading community in other popular works. 

The illustrations are by the original artists chosen by Charles 
Dickens himself . . . and the paper, printing, and bmding are 
of the most attractive and substantial character. 

Th,» publication of this beautiful new edition was commenced in 
April, 1873, and will be completed in 20 volumes — one novel each 
month — at the extremely reasonable price of $1.50 per volume, as 
follows : — 



1 — THE PICKWICK PAPERS. 

2 — OLIVER TW^IST. 

3 — DAVID COPPERFIELD. 

4 — GREAT EXPECTATIONS. 

5 — DOMBEY AND SON. 

6 — BARNABY RUDGE. 

7 — NICHOLAS NICKLEBY 

8 — OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. 

9 — BLEAK HOUSE, 
10 — LITTLE DORRIT. 



1 1 — MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. 

12 — OUR MUTUAL FRIEND. 

13 — TALE OF TWO CITIES. 

14 — CHRISTMAS BOOKS. 

15 — SKETCHES BY **BOZ." 

16 — HARD TIMES, ETC. 

17 — PICTURES OF ITALY, ETC. 

18 — UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER. 

19 — EDWI^' DkOOD, ETC. 

20 — ENGLAND and CATALOGUE. 



Being issued, month by month, at so reasonable a price, those who 
begin by subscribing for this work, will imperceptibly soon find them- 
selves fortunate )wners of an entire set of this best edition if Dickens' 
Warksy almost without having paid for it. 

A Prospectus furnishing specimen of type, sized -page, and illustra 
lions, will be sent to any one free on application — and specimen copies 
of the bound books will be forwarded by mail, postage frt:^ on receipt 
af price, $1.50, by 

G. W. Carleton & Co., Publishers, 

Madison Square, New Yoik, 



THREE VALUABLE BOOKS, 

All Beautifiillv Printed and Elegantly Bound. 
I. — TBie Art of Coiiier§atioii, 

With DirectianB for Self-Culture. An admirably conceived and entertElEtng 
work — sensible. Instructive, and full of suggestions valuable to every one who 
desires to be either a good talker or listener, or who wishes to appear to advao- 
tat^e in good society. Every young and even old person should read it, study it 
over and over again, and follow those hints in it which lead them to break up 
bad habits and cultivate good ones. Price $1.60. Among the contents will 

bf> found chapters upon — 
Attention in Conversation.— Sat- 
XBS.— Pdn.s. — Sakcasm. — Teasing. — 
Censukh. — Fault-finding. — Egot- 
ism. — Politeness. — Compliments. — 
Stories -Anecdotes.-Questionino. 
•1 ■iberties.— Impudence.— Staring. 
— Disagree ABu: Subjects. — Sel- 



-Abgument.— Sacripicm. 
—Silent People.— Dinner Cc»- 
versation. — Timidity. — Its Cube. — 
MoDESTT. — Correct Language. — 
Self- Instruction.— Miscellaneous 
Knowledge.— Languages. 



If.— The Iiablt§ of Good Society. 

A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen. With thoughts, hints, and anecdotes 
concerning social observances, nice points of taste and good manners, and the 
art <rf maklcg oneself agreeable. The whole interspersed wlti humorous illus- 
tratioaa of social predicaments, remarks on fashion, etc. •»* Price $1.76. 
Among tha contents will be found chapters upon — 



Gentlemen's Preface. 

Ladies' Preface.— I' ashions. 

Thoughts on Society. 

Good Society.— Bad Society. 

The Dressing-Room. 

The Ladies' Toilet.— Dress. 

Feminine Accomplishments. 

Manners and Habits. 

Public and Private Etiquette. 

Married and Unmarried Ladies. 

Do do Gentlemen. 

Calling Etiquette.— Cards. 
Visiting Etiquette.— Dinners. 
Dinner Parties. 



Ladies at Dinner. 
Dinner Habits.— Carving. 
Manners at Supper.— Balls. 
Morning Parties. — Picnics. 
Evening Parties. — Dances. 
Private Theatricals. 
Receptions. — Eng agements. 
Marriage Ceremonies. 
In viTATioNs.— Dresses. 
Bridesmaids.— Presents. 
Travelling Etiquette. 
Public Promenade. 
Country Visits. — City Visits. 



SII.— Art§ of Writing, Heading, and Speaking. 

An exceedingly fascinating work for teaching not only the beginner, but for 
perfecting every one in these three most desirable accomplishments. For youth 
this book s both interesting and valuable ; and for adults, whether professionally 
or socially it is a book that they cannot dispense with. Price $1.50. Am..ng 
the contem ^ will be found chapters upon— 
Reading & Thinking.— L.\nguage.— 
Words, SEN.rENCE.s. & Construction. 
What to A vcid.— Letter Writing.— 
Pronunciation.— Expression.— Tone 
Religious Readings.— The Bible.— 
pRiYERs.— Dramatic Readings.-The 
Actor & Reader.— Foundations for 
Oratory ani Speaking.— What to 

•Jfiese work$ ire the most perfect of their kind ever published ; fresh, ser^le 
good-'iumoreu entertaining, attd readable. Every person of taste snould po3~ 
teas theTTk, and camioC be oUierwise llian delighted with them. 

A beautiful new minature edition of these very popular fcooks has just 
beea mblished, entitled "The Diamond Edition," three little volumes, ele- 
gantly printed on tinted paper, and handsomely bound in a box. Price $3.00. 
There books are all sent by mall, posUige free, on receipt of price, by 

Q. W. CAELETON & CO., Publishers, Madison Square, New Ycrk. 



Say.— What not to Say.— How to 
Begin.- Cautions.-Delivery. -Writ- 
ing A Speech. — First Lessons. — Pub 
Lie Speaking.— Delivery.- Action. 
Oratory of the Pulpit.— Composi 
TioN. — The Bar. — Reading of Wit & 
Humor.— The Platform.— Constbuo- 
TiON OF a Speech. 



H 132 82 



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